A Life Across the Ages
by TheKhajiitWarrior
Summary: In the abandoned Castle Volkihar, the statuary Gargoyles continue to sit motionless in their stone skins. When the Dragonborn, Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, discovers something shocking about these "Gargoyles", she is determined to find one that's still alive. In doing so she will inadvertently open a window into the past…and a door to knew friend. Idea by Atraxotax.
1. Gargoyles

Serana slowly leads me through the twisting tunnels beneath Castle Volkihar, her flickering torch casting dancing shadows across the slimy walls. A chandelier is dangling by a dangerously thin chain, and as we pass it the metal decoration comes crashing down. It harmlessly hits the ground a few feet behind us, but I've already gotten a ward spell up and Serana jumps in surprise. The woman's torch sputters and she asks me, "Why exactly are we down here?". I adjust my Archmage's Robes and explain for the third time, "I need a piece of a gargoyle for my current studies.". The torch finally goes out, Serana cursing as we're both plunged into darkness.

With a flick of my wrist I cast a magelight spell, the eerie glow illuminating Serana struggling with a piece of flint. The vampire quickly puts the flint and torch in her pocket, continuing down the narrow hallways. We stop at a gigantic cathedral, the remains of numerous gargoyles littering the floor. Serana leans against the entrance and says, "Take your pick. There are a few intact ones near the back. Don't worry about them waking up, they've been asleep for ages.". I absentmindedly nod, already walking around the room. Most of the samples aren't worthy of taken. Broken arms, legs, and hands are usually the only things large enough not to be dust. I look at the intact ones, but right now I only need a small sample. Breaking an entire statue seems wasteful.

I'm about to give up hope when I see the perfect piece. A gargoyle's head is sitting atop a pile of rubble, my magelight gleaming off its horns and fangs. I heave the stone into my arms and walk back over to Serana. The vampire pushes herself off the wall and leads me back out, my eerie magic light seeming to bounce off the walls and casting deep shadows. Once we've exited the castle I follow the vampire back to our boat, the tiny vessel smacking against the shore as it strains against its ties. The woman mumbles as she rows us back to the mainland, the stone head in my lap preventing me from being able to help.

Once we've reached the shore Serana and I walk together to Solitude, but that's where we part. I climb into a carriage to take me back to Winterhold, but Serana begins walking back to Fort Dawnguard. The carriage driver whips his horse's ass and begins driving me back to the college, my fifty gold safe in his pocket. It's well into the night by the time we reach Winterhold, the moon shining down on the small city that's busy being drowned in snow. I thank the man for taking me this far out, then start walking back to the college. It's probably for the best I don't stay in the town for long, the people still despise the college and everything we stand for. Faralda is still guarding the gates, but I quickly adjust the stone head in my arms and tell her, "You can come inside if you wish. Nobody's going to come up here in this weather.". The Altmer nods and follows me up to the college.

The woman locks the gates and goes to her room, leaving me to go to the Arch-Mage's Quarters alone. The gargoyle head is causing my arms to shake by the time I reach my room. However, I take a moment to admire my chamber. The dodecagonal quarter has an antechamber and central garden containing various plants and fungi that would make any alchemist thrilled. A curved partition stone wall separates my sleeping area from the garden and the rest of the room, dozens of rugs line the floor around the outside of the room. The antechamber is an open empty space with a long wooden bench against both of the side walls, two banners of The College of Winterhold hanging above and a large rug on the floor.

On my left in the main part of the room is a square wooden table and two chairs. There are seemingly hundreds of mounted animal heads and skulls on the outer wall around the room. Bears, wolves, and foxes are the most common. Beyond this is an alchemy lab with a set of shelves on either side, and two further sets to the right holding various ingredients and mixes. Several barrels and baskets containing further ingredients are also in this area of the room. Coming out from a wall to the northeast is a good quality double bed with small tables flanking it. To the right of the bed are two small wardrobes with one tall wardrobe between them, these all contain my clothing.

On the right-hand small wardrobe is a dagger display case containing my Daedric Knife. There is a large round table and chair against the next wall with a wash basin beside it. To the right of this is a large display cabinet containing several soul gems I've collected. Next to this is an arcane enchanter with two wall shelves above holding several large soul gems. The final outer wall section has a square wooden table and two chairs. The curved partition wall has sets of shelves against the outer wall. Another small table and two chairs are against the wall, followed by a safe and then a long chest opposite the double bed.

Then, another square wooden table with two more chairs, and finally an open crate on the floor with a wall shelf above. There are three College of Winterhold banners hanging from the inside (facing the garden) of the partition wall and small semicircular windows high up on each of the twelve sections of wall excluding one area. That section has a large circular window also high on the wall lead-lined with the College symbol. My arms once again buckle and I'm reminded I'm carrying a gigantic stone head. I rush over to a table and place the gargoyle's skull on the cleared wooden coffee table. I take a moment to stretch the muscles in my arms, then begin gathering the items I'll need to test the gargoyle's stone head.

It's mostly potions, but the occasional soul gem is added to the pile. However, I quickly realize I need to mix a few more potions. I sigh and get to work, mumbling to myself as I mix. "Just a little more daedra heart.". A foul black puff of smoke comes from the mixture. "Damned. Too much. Have to add some nightshade to even it out.". Another poof of black some. "Fuck. Need some hagraven claw.". I reach over and grab the substance, adding it to the mix. A puff of light pink some comes from the concoction, the liquid turning white. "Finally.". I scoop some up in a vial and place it to the side, cleaning out the alchemy lab and mixing another concoction.

When black smoke once again comes from the liquid I groan. "Damned alchemy lab. Too old.". A calm voice nearly causes me to jump out of my skin. "Do you always talk to yourself when you're alone?". I flip around and see Brelyna Maryon standing near the gargoyle head, idly rubbing its horn. I sigh in relief and go back to mixing potions, but ask the student, "What are you doing up here? Did J'zargo steal something from you again?". The Dunmer begins walking around my room as she explains, "J'zargo said he saw you and Faralda coming in, and that you were carrying a strange stone head. I asked Faralda and she told me to stop snooping, but admitted you might need some help with your experiment.".

I'm done with my final potion, and begin cleaning up my alchemy lab as I explain, "You don't have to help me with my experiment if you don't want to.". I turn and add the potions to the pile of supplies by the gargoyle's head. The elf straightens up and assures me, "I _want_ to help. You've helped me so much in the past, and I turned you into a horse! I tried to get J'zargo and Onmund to come, but J'zargo didn't want to and Onmund was too drunk to even walk.". I straighten up my items and once again assure her, "It's absolutely fine if you don't want to help me, I won't do anything to you if you leave.".

The Dunmer looks wary as she tells me, "I really want to help. I'll leave if you want me to.". I quickly freeze and say, "If you want to help me, then feel free. But I can assure you it's going to be boring.". The elf looks ecstatic as she happily ask, "What do I do first?". I hand her a journal and say, "Start at the top. If I say 'yes' put a check mark by the word, but if I say 'no' put a 'x' by it. Ready?". The elf nods and says, "Ready.". I take a moment to smooth out my brown fur, then pick up some potions. I carefully read the labels I've put on them, the glass reflecting my green eyes. I find one labeled 'plant' and pour it on the skull. Nothing. "No.". I pour 'bird' on the skull. "No.". 'Fish'. "No.". The pattern keeps continuing. After a few bottles, the student asks, "What exactly are you looking for?".

I put the empty bottles to the side and explain, "These potions will help determine what the gargoyles are made of.". The Dunmer looks confused and asks, "You're aware gargoyles are made of stone, right?". I chuckle a little before further explaining, "Before they were stone. If they were always made of stone, then none of these potions will work.". The Dunmer nods and I'm done moving the empty bottles to the side. I grab another one and dump it on the skull, but this time there's a reaction. The stone turns purple and absorbs the liquid. I instantly say, "Yes!". I quickly look at the label on the vial. _Mammal. _

I rush back to my alchemy lab, mixing together a few more potions. I come back and take my journal from the Dunmer's hands. I flip to a pre-prepared page titled _Mammal_, hand it back to the student, and explain, "Exact same thing.". I pour a potion on the stone skull, returning it to its normal state. Then, I pour a potion labeled _wolf _on the gargoyle's head. Nothing. "No.". I continue the process a few times, but eventually get another reaction. The skull hisses as it absorbs the liquid, turning light pink. I smirk and say, "Yes!". I turn the potion around and freeze up. _Human. _I quickly tell my helper, "Please, wait for a second.". I go to the alchemy lab and mix ten separate potions, then return to where I was.

I return the skull to normal, once again getting ready to do some test. I notice my table is ruined by all the liquids I've dumped on it, but I ignore that for now. I can always fix it later. I dump a potion titled _Khajiit _on the stone (I had to use my own blood for that one). Nothing. The Dunmer clears her throat and asks, "What am I suppose to do?". I pick up another potion and answer, "You can leave if you wish, but for now I don't think I have anything else for you to do.". We both fall silent as I pour a potion called _Redguard _onto the stone. Suddenly, the skull begins rattling and hissing.

I grab the Dunmer woman and yank her away from the table and onto the floor, a venomous green light flashing. When it's subsided I slowly stand and look at the skull, the student rising with me. With both freeze, but Brelyna lets out a small shriek of fright as she realizes what's on my table. The severed head of a Redguard. I quickly pat her shoulder to calm her down, then walk over to the head. I hesitantly pick it up by the hair, the man's glazed eyes looking at nothing. A sudden realization comes over me and I whisper, "The gargoyles are humans.". Brelyna has calmed down and asks, "What?". I put the skull back down on my table, start grabbing more potions, and tell the elf, "I have to leave. Please, go tell Faralda to hold down the fort until I return.". The woman nods and accompanies me downstairs. At the gates she turns and I continue on. I need to see Serana and have her take me back to Castle Volkihar. Quickly.


	2. Ancient Beings

**Brief Note: I changed the Breton in the last chapter to a Redguard, just a small change.**

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><p>Serana is fast asleep in Fort Dawmgaurd when I find her, her breathing barely audible. I shake her awake and stand back as the woman rises. When the vampire is up she rubs her red eyes and asks, "What?". I already know what I want to say, and instantly ask her, "Can you take me back to Castle Volkihar?". The Nord sighs in disapproval, but begins getting dressed in her armor as she questions, "Why do you need to go back so soon? Did you already destroy the head?". I adjust the satchel on my waist, my multiple potions clinking together. "No, but I discovered something highly important about the gargoyles.".<p>

Without looking over her shoulder the vampire speaks, "What on earth did you discover in such a short time?". I finish adjusting my satchel and explain, "From what I currently know, the gargoyles are made from living things. People to be exact. I wouldn't imagine any animals would be made into the monsters, but I won't know until I do further test.". Something clicks together in my mind and I question the vampire, "Were you aware the gargoyles were humans? Are you even aware of when you got the gargoyles?". Serana finishes dressing and turns around, putting a dagger in her boot as she tells me, "I wasn't aware that the gargoyles were people, I always assumed my mother made them out of literal stone.". A contemplating looks comes over her face before she speaks again.

"I think I briefly recall a friend of my father coming over briefly before we got the gargoyles. Harkon slit his throat the same day we got the statues. It might be related, or it could be just a random coincidence. Either way, why do you want to return to the castle?". I nearly balk and reiterate, "They're _people_.". The vampire shrugs and says, "So what? They've been stones for centuries, they don't know anything else. Besides, you aren't the one that turned them into gargoyles. They're not your responsibility. Just briefly pity them in your mind, then get over it and continue on with your life.".

A sudden burst of shock and offence at the mere thought I would do such a thing fill me. "Serana! They're living creatures! It's our duty to help them.". The vampire rolls her eyes, but mumbles and begins walking away. I follow her as quickly as I can, multiple members of The Dawnguard glaring at us as we pass them. The Dawnguard are still displeased to have a vampire among their ranks, and apparently their disapproval also goes to the Khajiit that _made_ them take the vampire into their ranks. Our walk back to Riften is rather uneventful, the lone howl of a lost wolf the only sign of an enemy. I pay the carriage driver and we both get in, the gigantic horse already pulling the wagon down the rocky stone road. The rocking of the wagon sends my eyelids downwards, and I'm falling asleep before I realize what's going on.

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><p>I'm awoken by my vampire companion gently shaking me awake. I mumble and stand up, hopping down from the carriage and instantly beginning to walk away. The Nord follows me, neither of us speaking as we travel up into the mountains. The snowy ground around us is still as the winds fall silent, an ill-omen if some people can be believed. But I've never been one for superstitions, so I continue on without the slightest bit of thought for anything as trivial as the weather. When we reach the boat Serana hands me some paddles to assist her in rowing, but it's clear she's doing the brunt of the work.<p>

When we reach the rocky shore Serana ties the boat up, then leads me back to the castle she grew up in. The abandoned palace is foreboding and silent, invisible enemies of the mind moving around in the shadows. I might not believe in fairy tale monsters, but the castle still puts me on edge. Everywhere we go broken furniture, bloody bodies, and burnt stone are the only things to greet us. Even Serana seems a little on guard, her shoulders are tensed and her hand never leaves the hilt of her dagger. We reach the passage where we came from, and the Nord pulls back the entrance for me. I nod in thanks and cast a magelight spell, the eerie glow our only source of light. My traveling companion shuts the entrance behind us, locking us in the icy tunnel.

Serana slowly leads me down the twisting corridors, ice slowly beginning to form on the path. When we reach the area with the gargoyles I pull some potions from my pack, making my way to the back of the room. Serana closely follows me, careful not to be out of range of the low magelight. When we reach the stone monuments I go over to the one on the far right, pulling out a potion labeled _Nord. _I pour the potion over the stone, but nothing happens. I curse and begin rummaging through my bag, pulling out a potion titled _Orc. _This time the stone absorbs the liquid, and another green light flashes before my eyes.

But this time I'm prepared, and pull Serana to the side. When I look back I see a dead Orc in the gargoyle's place, his glassy eyes gazing at nothing. Serana walks over to the corpse, gives it a swift kick to the head, and asks me, "Now do you see? These people are dead inside their stone skins, reviving them will only lead to their demises. It's better to smash them and think of them as statues. The alternative is admitting they're people, and that you've brought them back purely to die. Now, can we please get to breaking some stones?". I shake my head and say for a third time, "They're people. I'd rather free them all of their stone skins and admit they're dead. Besides, we can give them a proper burial now.".

The vampire sighs and disappears into the darkness, mumbling as she goes, "Fine by me, just be quick.". I nod and look at the four remaining gargoyles, each of them with a frozen smile on their faces. I pull out a potion called _Redguard _and dump it on the beast's head, the stone greedily gulping down the liquid. By now I'm use to the green flashes, and can withstand the glow to some extent. The Redguard falls to the floor, doing a sick twisted jig on the freezing stone. I move to assist him, but he's already dead by the time I take my first step. I sigh and move onto the next one, pouring another _Redguard_ potion on the next gargoyle's head. Nothing.

However, the _Breton_ potion works just fine. This one manages to sway on his feet for a few moments, then tumbles to the ground and gargles his last breath. I can practically feel Serana's gaze burning a hole into my back, and I know what she's thinking. However, I ignore the cynical woman and pour an _Orc_ potion on the next statue. I praise my luck as the stone burst into green light, an Orc woman revealed. This one doesn't last much longer than the other ones. She briefly looks around, works her jaw a little, and falls to the ground. I sigh as I feel Serana walk up behind me, the one remaining statue the only surviving gargoyle in the entire caslte (at least to my knowledge).

My companion puts her hand on my shoulder and encourages me, "Let it go. Let the poor thing rest where it is, or smash it to bits while it still doesn't know what's going on. You saw what the last one did. We both _know_ she knew what was going on, and don't lie and tell me you didn't see terror in her eyes. The other two were just as bad. Imagine waking up after thousands of years of rest, just to take your last breath as fear pumps through your veins. You wouldn't sentence any creature to a death like that, would you?".

I shake my head, but argue, "It could still be alive. If it is, then we owe it to the person inside to try to save them. Or at least wake them from their slumber, so we can give their body a burial it deserves. No human deserves to have this disturbing castle serve as their eternal resting.". I can practically feel Serana roll her eyes as she counters, "Thanks, I appreciate that generous comparison of my ancestral home to something disgusting. Now, why can't you let this go? Just go back to your college and let your life move on. What can you gain from this? If the person does live, they'll be thousands of years behind. It's hard enough for me to grasp the social structures and norms of modern day, I can't imagine what oblivion they'd be going through. They wouldn't even know what to do. Please, allow this one to finally rest in peace?".

I shake my head and step forward, pulling a _Breton_ potion from my bag. "We have to release whoever's inside. It's the only moral thing to do.". Serana sighs, but gives in. "Fine, but I'm not helping you carry the bodies out.". I nod to agree and uncork the liquid, pouring it over the stone. This venomous light is even brighter than any before, and I feel Serana yank me away from the statue. The vampire trips and we both end up on the floor, my companion cursing as I accidentally crush her foot beneath my own. When the light finally subsides I look at the newly revealed person.

A naked Breton sways back and forth on the stone pedestal where she was previous perched, the naked woman looking around in confusion. Before I can blink she crashed to the ground, but there's one thing that separates her from all the other gargoyles. When they hit the ground they took their last breaths, but the unconscious Breton is still breathing. It's shallow and definitely not healthy, but at least she's alive. I apologize as I get off of Serana, crawling over to the downed woman. I gently place my fingers on her neck, a steady pules confirming that the woman hasn't killed over. I motion for the Nord to come closer, and within a few seconds the vampire is beside me. I excitedly tell her, "She's alive!". My cynical friend nods and mumbles, "I noticed.".

It suddenly occurs to me the woman most definitely needs medical attention. I'm gifted in magic and alchemy, but the anatomy of every race is Tamriel isn't my specialty. What could cure a Nord could kill her, and that's the last thing I want to do. I slap Serana on the shoulder and tell her, "Come on! Help me lift her, we have to get her to Solitude!". The vampire eyes me and questions, "What about all the dead ones? I thought you wanted to give them proper burials?". I nod and agree, "I want to give them proper burials, but in this case the living take precedents. I can bury the corpses later, but this woman could die at any minute. Please?". The woman nods and helps me with the Breton, and as we lift she tells me, "We'll have to be careful in the boat, but we should be able to take all of us across in one trip.". I nod and we both rush out of the cathedral, leaving piles of stones and bodies behind us.


	3. Awakening

When we're in the boat Serana begins paddling and I hold the unconscious Breton, once again checking for her pulse. The faint flutter of her pumping blood gives me hope, and I take my hand away from her neck. Serana mumbles as the boat hits the shore, but she doesn't say anything else about killing the woman. The vampire grabs the woman's legs while I grab her shoulders, both of us heaving her out of the boat and beginning to walk. As we slowly go up the mountain slope the vampire tells me, "We could just leave her here. Let the wolves and the cold have their go at her.". I've heard enough about killing the woman, and offer the vampire a slightly disappointed glance.

The Nord clears her throat and mumbles, "Joking.". We fall into silence as we find the road again, the Breton becoming heavy in our arms. As we carry her my companion asks, "Where are we taking her?". I adjust my grip on the woman before answering, "To Solitude, the college is too far away. I'm certain we can find a room at the inn, or talk to the queen. She still owes me a few favors.". Serana nods and questions, "Does Solitude have a library? I need to find a book on this.". I nod and tell her the location of the library, but after that we both go silent again. When we reach Solitude the guard opens the door for us, never even bothering to question why we're carrying a naked and unconscious Breton.

We hurry to the inn and pay for a room, taking the unconscious woman up to the room and lying her down on the bed. Serana quickly bids me farewell and goes to find the library. I briefly wave at her, then go over to the Breton. Her breathing is becoming less shallow, and her pulse is now pounding against my fingers like the steady beat of a drum. The woman is unconscious, but that doesn't mean she isn't hurt. I do a quick examination of her body from her head to her toes, checking for anything that could be harmful or bad. The worst I find is a bruise on her ass from where she fell down, and her skull seems completely unaffected.

I brush some of her hair out of her face, her breathing now of sleep instead of being knocked unconsciousness. I find I have nothing to do, and begin idly popping my joints. Serana would scream at me if she was here (she despises the sound of the cracking), but thankfully the vampire isn't here. As if to prove me wrong the vampire walks through the door as I'm twisting my back, a loud _crack_ coming from my spine. The vampire shudders and hands me a book. "It has a few answers in it, but not too many. It's mostly telling about gargoyles.". I nod and say, "Let's get to reading.". The vampire shakes her head and tells me, "I need to get back to Fort Dawnguard, but good luck.". Before I can stop her the woman leaves. I blink at her sudden departure, but quickly sit down and begin reading.

_The ancient gargoyles occasionally found in ruins are somewhat of a mystery, but I hope to shed some light on the matter. Long ago there stood three alliances who ruled the land. The Ebonheart Pact, The Daggerfall Covenant, and The Aldmeri Dominion. The Ebonheart Pact consisted of Dunmer, Nords, and Argonians. The Daggerfall Covenant was made up of Bretons, Orcs, and Redguards. The Aldmeri Dominion was made up of Khajiits, Altmers, and Bosmer. All three were bitter rivals, and took great joy in capturing prisoners of war. However, there were other things to fear. In the far northeast of Skyrim a foul darkness persist._

_ It can not be named, and few who have seen it live to tell (even then the stories are odd and hard to believe). However, somehow stories of the darkness have spread throughout all of Tamriel. This area was used by all three alliances, and was one of the heaviest sea routes in all of the world. But by my calculations only four out of every ten ships would make it across safely. The other six were swallowed up by a foul darkness, but there was never a trace of them. The ships and people would vanish without a trace, causing even more stories to pop up. But one has persisted above all else. The adventures that go to this foul place have noticed something. Stone monsters sit in rows by the hundreds, their glassy eyes seeming to follow them._

_Each time the adventurers went back they found more monsters, and on their last expedition they found something strange. Hundreds of 'lost' ships were sunk just beyond the island's tides, as if they were sunk by an attack from the shore. These brave men stayed on this dark and forbidden place for years, always within the shadows of the evil monsters who called the place home. Finally, they got to see what they had been waiting for. A brave ship got within distance of the island, and almost instantly met its demise. However, smaller boats rushed to their aide. The heroes were forced to retreat and come back the next morning._

_ When they returned the ship was long gone, the evil monsters were back in their lair, and something odd had happened. A new row of gargoyles had been added to the ranks. I'm uncertain what the conclusion might be, but I do know one thing. The adventures who so bravely went to the island recently found their own doom, although I'm not sure how. Many people may speculate about what brought these heroes down. The tide, the monsters, or any wild animal who happened along their camp. But I have a different theory. I think they might just be three new gargoyles sitting along the coast of the island, their glassy eyes looking out over the seas where they once roamed._

_However, you will have to forgive me for my speculation. I'm an ancient man, and I know of even older wizards who could do any sorts of nearly impossible feats. One of them being the ability to turn a cat to stone. And, my mind wandered off with that idea. This was suppose to be an informative book, and I fear I've ruined it. Alas, there's nothing I can do now besides tell you the boring facts of the stone beast known as the 'gargoyle'. Gargoyles have the abilities to absorb health with their claws, and are immune to both paralysis and poison. They have an additional ability to resist large amounts of damage. _

_When killed gargoyles are known to drop various ores and gems, most of the hidden in their stomachs. __When stationary, gargoyles disguise themselves as statues int he hopes of catching the unwary. They can often be found beside regular statues, helping them blend in. While posing as a statue, they are immune to harm of any form and cannot be killed. If they do not immediately burst from the rocks, magic (such as destructive spells) can be used to distinguish a stationary gargoyle from a regular statue. Occasionally one can encounter gargoyles in the wild or attacking cities, accompanied by their vampire masters and the vampire's Death Hounds._

_It's been noted that the rare Vampire Lords have the ability to summon gargoyles to aid them in battle, much like a Conjuration spell. The power is only available to the strongest of vampire lords, and only unlocked after the lord has slain a certain amount of mortals. Now I fear the tale of the gargoyle is about to come to an end. Multiple adventures, mercenaries, and soldiers are now dedicating themselves to ending the rein of darkness that is blocking one of the most used sea routes in the world. Even the leaders of the alliances are turning their attention to this problem, although I doubt they'll put aside their differences to help one another._

_ Whatever dark creatures inhabit that area of the sea better prepare themselves because a storm is brewing, and heading right for them. And, I have no doubt what the first thing the attackers will do. They'll take down the threats they're accustomed to, the gargoyles and hounds. The statues outside might not be able to be slain, but there's nothing stopping them from being pushed into the ocean. Unless there are some hidden gargoyles in the depths of the island, then the entire population of the stone monster might be destroyed before the era is over. Now, I fear the book is done and there is now more to say about the gargoyles. Farewell reader, and may you use your new knowledge for the good of the many._

I put the book to the side and make a mental note to take it back to the library. My attention is suddenly snapped to the Breton when she begins to mumble, slowly moving around in her sleep. I'm at her side within a minute, and suddenly wonder if I should have put clothes on her. I shrug it off, I'll find her some clothes later. The Breton slowly opens her eyes, her pupils dilating and locking onto me. I shush her and begin speaking in a soothing voice, but I'm interrupted by the woman screaming at the top of her lungs. I can barely make out what she's saying, but it's something about refusing to be taken hostage by The Aldmeri Dominion.

Why on earth does she think The Aldmeri Dominion would take her hostage? I'm going to ask her that, but a foot to my gut stops me. I groan and stumble to the side, the Breton taking the chance to burst out the door. I hear the scream of the patrons of The Winking Skeever, and I quickly get over my sore gut. I rush out of the inn as quickly as I can, three guards already beating me to the Breton. I yell out for them not to hurt her, but it turns out that isn't a problem. The naked woman howls like a madwoman and charges the guard, flipping one over her shoulder and yanking the other two's helmets together. The two fall and the Breton runs away deeper into the city. The first guards recovers and stands up, then screams, "Someone stop her! She's heading for The Blue Palace!".

I realize the guard is right and begin running after the Breton, screaming and hoping to draw her attention to me. It doesn't stop her, but I'm at least gaining on her. The Breton is pushing everyone out of her way, she even pushes Taarie into a barrel. I briefly stop to help the Altmer up, then continue the chase. The royal guards draw their spears and form a line, preparing to spear the Breton before she can get past them and into the palace. The Breton howls again and leaps over them, easily avoiding the guard's spears. I push past the guards as they all scramble to turn around, their heavy armor causing them to move slowly.

When I get through them I quickly prepare a paralyzing spell, the Breton already nearing the building that houses the queen. My spell hits her right in the back, the naked woman locking up and falling to the side. I'm already there to catch her, saving the Breton from any possible harm. I hear footsteps and look up to see Elisif, the Nord looking at the scene before asking, "What's going on?". I explain the situation as fully as I can, never omitting a single detail. Hiding things could only get me into trouble later. The queen takes in the information and tells me, "As long as you're in Solitude she's your responsibility. Don't let it happen again.". I nod, apologize, and begin carrying the woman away. I need to find something to do with the woman. Fast.


	4. Consciousness

**Note: All credit for this chapter goes to Atraxotax.**

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><p><strong>Breton<strong> **POV:**

I woke up, my eyes opening… and immediately shutting as one bitch of a migraine throbbed in my skull. I groan, frowning, as I reach up to rub my temples and the bridge of my nose to alleviate the pain. I lay where I was as the aching slowly subsided with the massage. My arms dropped down to my sides as I sighed, a frown still on my face. Something didn't seem… right. It felt like I was lying on something warm, comfy, yet scratchy, and guessed I'd been sleeping on some sort of cot. I'd have been alarmed as I don't remember my bed feeling like that, but my head felt a bit hazy… like I had… I don't know, over slept?  
>Other than a mild headache, a sore throat, and feeling unusually warm, my body felt fine. I opened my eyes once more. It still felt like my skull was going to split open, causing me to squint, but it wasn't as bad this time. I was greeted with the sight of a gray cobblestone ceiling, the stones shining from an orange light, presumably a fireplace in the room. A blackishblue strut of wood, stained green with age, stuck into where the wall on my left met the ceiling.  
><em>This doesn't look like…<em>, I began to think. My eyes shot open as I realized that this was definitely not where I remember being. Oh shit.

I quickly sat up on, what was confirmed to be, the cot, and drew a swift breath of shock from the sight of the room I was in. A prison cell.  
>It was medium sized; a brazier with glowing yellow embers and no fire sat in the corner of the room across from mine. It was smoking, and looked to have been lit a while ago, but was still shining as brightly as a fire would. Like the ceiling the walls and floor was constructed of neatly cut cobblestone which would have probably felt cold were it not for the brazier. Other than a simple orange carpet, the only other thing here were the iron bars and door serving as the wall that the brazier had been pushed up against. Beyond the metal barring was what looked appeared to be a concave shaped, stone balcony. I could see two pillars connecting the balcony to a larger ceiling. Squinting slightly I spotted what looked to be an identical cell to mine on another stone balcony opposite the one I was in. And another below that one.<br>If I had to take a guess, I'd have said that this prison cell was on the top floor of a jail underground or indoors that spiraled down in the same fashion that this level was constructed. The air was almost completely silent, exempt for the occasional crackling of the braziers embers.

My mouth hung open, and my brow creased in confusion as I pondered how I could have possibly gotten into prison. I swung my legs over the bed and onto the orange rug, staring at the ground and cracking my fingers idly.  
><em>Was… did I get drunk or something?<em> I shook my head. I've rarely been drinking ever since the Faction Wars started.  
>Faction Wars…<p>

My head snapped upwards and my eyes widened as I remembered something.  
>A message from the Daggerfall Courier Service… a warning… something about an attack and… how we should evacuate… a battle was going to be fought here and… nothing.<br>That was the last thing I remembered. I was helping my town evacuate and get everyone to safety and then… I think I was about to give the town guard the orders to start moving the civilians when… I don't know, everything went black there.

I then remembered something else… I was standing in some sort of ruined, ancient looking, dark, stone room… it was cold, and there was… a Khajiit and a, uh, Nord in front of me… they looked surprised at something. It was a very cloudy, haze filled memory, like a dream, almost, but I knew it was real.

My hand rose up to hold my forehead, as a sudden aching pulse rung about in my head, causing my ears to ring, making me hiss in pain.  
>I'd had a headache then too, I groaned internally, the memory becoming slightly clearer.<br>I was getting a trifle annoyed with the constant "how do I remember this?", and "what the fuck happened?", and "how the hell did I get here?". I remembered everything before my memory "went black", the first time, so I didn't have amnesia.  
><em>I might have been seriously drunk… maybe my mind is just making up all this shit<em>, I thought, grinning a little at how funny a story that would be, if I ever figured out what had happened.

But my smile disappeared and I frowned as another recollection came to mind. Something that felt very… wrong. It made me nervous and some primal… instinct came with remembering it.  
>I was panicking about something… a strange looking city that I wasn't familiar with… running – strangers yelling something I didn't pay attention to… they were chasing me – I-I was fighting them… i-it's so… I remember being afraid – trying to escape from some malevolent thing – some… force… something very bad… I was about to run inside a, uh… palace, or something and then, my entire body seemed to freeze and… nothing.<br>I rubbed the back of my neck as I struggled to connect the dots. Recalling that it felt as if I was nude in that memory made my look down and see that I was wearing a dull brown tunic and plain trousers of the same color.  
>If I was helping to evacuate my town to avoid some sort of battle, and I woke up in a strange place… could I have been kidnapped? The only people who would kidnap someone during an evacuation of a town in these times would be an Ebonheart Pact or Aldmeri Dominion spy.<br>My breath caught in my throat at the possibility.  
><em>No… no I couldn't have gotten captured… right?<em>

Just then small footsteps sounded from outside my cell, making me look up. I scowled at the sight of a female Khajiit walking in front of the iron bars. A Kahjiit… that means it's the Aldmeri Dominion.

Damn it! Damn it to Oblivion! I should have known! I should have known it would be the Dominion! They were always imprisoning random people for interrogations! It didn't matter if you were in the actual military or not! If your race was in an enemy faction, then you were a target. You had information. It was all the bloody same to those torturous bastards! I couldn't count the amount of horror stories I had heard about Thalmor interrogations on innocent civilians. 9 times out of 10 the prisoners were executed, even when it was obvious that they didn't know anything. At least the Ebonheart Pact has the decency to actually check if someone is a soldier or not when they abduct people for questioning! But the A.D? They seemed to go out of their own way to be sadistic bastards. Which is completely contradictory to the words of their leader, Queen Ayrenn.

'I do not hate the races of man' my ass… damned liar, I thought.

I grimaced and looked down at the floor bitterly.

For fucks sake! Why couldn't I figure it out sooner!? I could have escaped by now, dammit! I could have… I could have gotten away with my life…

I buried my face in my hands in sour hopelessness. I expected the Khajiit to enter my cell to interrogate, possibly torture me. To demand answers to inane and obscure questions that I didn't know the answers to. I expected the cat to strike me, or slash my skin to ribbons with those claws of hers, whenever I said, "I don't know", or something like that. The only magic I knew were some Mage Armor, Healing, and Summoning spells. A Stoneflesh would only protect me for about a minute, and I'm pretty sure my interrogator would bind my hands by the end of that. She'd probably do the same thing if I tried healing myself. And I didn't have enough space in this cell to call an Atronach in from Oblivion in the first place.

_I'm so screwed…_

But… I never heard the clinking of keys, nor the creak of the rusted iron door opening. No sounds that could tell her the cat was approaching were made.

I removed my hands from my face, dropping my arms to hang between my knees, and looked up at the Khajiit.

She wasn't showing any animosity, nor was she making a move to enter my cell. She was just standing there, looking at me, her weight shifted onto one leg, one of her arms crossed over her abdomen, under her breasts, and her other arm propped up by the elbow on the others closed fist. The arm that was being supported up by the other had its hand pinching her chin thoughtfully. The Khajiit's tail was passively swishing about, side-to-side, behind her. Her face was almost completely blank and neutral, with only a hint of musing in the cat's slightly narrowed eyes.

She didn't seem threatening, not even her gaze was at all malevolent. It was as if the Khajiit was… studying me – no… trying to decide on something.

This is when I took real note of the cat's appearance. She was wearing these odd looking blue and white robes and shoes that appeared more like that of a mage than a torturer. Her fur was colored a bright, saturated crimson, and I could see small blotches of black patterned symmetrically on the Khajiit's face. Looking almost like camouflage. As well as short strips of black stripes on the backs of her hands. I could spot a gray color, tinged with a small amount of red, on the cats' palms. Meaning that her stomach, chest, and the insides of her arms and legs were most likely the same gray/reddish color under her robes. Her ears were long, and pointed, with tufts of black, wispy hairs sticking off their points. This was unusual, since the few Khajiits I had seen before the Alliance War all had their ears adorned with various rings and charms. Her claws were also odd. Most Kahjiits I had heard of had small, gray colored hooks on the ends of their fingers. But hers were a shiny ebony, shaped like razors, and looked almost too big for her digits. She had either been born that way, or she had found a way to modify them. The final thing about her were her eyes. They were a very bright verdant, contrasting painfully with her brick and ebony colored fur. They had black slit pupils, and seemed to almost glow in the light of the brazier in my cell.

_Perhaps… she's a Battlemage for the Aldmeri Dominion, and just wanted to see one of the "enemy" while they were trapped and helpless_, I thought cynically. She'll probably call for the Inquisitioner in a minute.

I was wrong again. She stared at me for ten minutes straight.

I was beginning to get annoyed at her emotionless and motionless behavior and spoke.

"What are you looking at, flea bag?", I asked in a derisive, yet tired voice.

Her response wasn't something I was expecting. She said in an utterly calm and blank tone, as she narrowed her eyes musingly: "I'm trying to find a way to word this question correctly without it sounding completely dumb. And if I can't find a way to do that, I'll just have to find a different question to ask".

I recoiled slightly in surprise and raised an eyebrow.

"And I'm the one who's keeping you here, so racial slurs wouldn't be a good thing to use at the moment.", she added a moment later, her voice still the same calm, and her gaze never wavering. Not even blinking, actually. It was as if half of her attention was occupied in her head.

I frowned, but decided to stay silent. There… wasn't really much you could say to that… after a few seconds I looked at the floor, waiting for her question.

After 3 minutes, she finally spoke. She crossed her arms and her demeanor suddenly changed to a plain, logical vibe that made it seem like the Khajiit knew everything.

"I'm going to go ahead and assume that you won't answer any questions I ask you, correct?", she asked.

"Couldn't you just torture me for the information you want?" I asked her in return, not looking up from the floor. Her response blindsided me, yet again.

"I couldn't torture you for anything, even if I wanted to. Torture is illegal.", she replied offhandedly, shrugging. It caused me to look up at her. I would have believed she was lying, were it not for that voice that seemed so… factual - there's no other way to put it. Which SHOULD sound like a lie. The Empire's fallen apart; the Factions follow their own rules! And the Aldmeri Dominion practiced torture liberally. But… this Khajiit just seemed so bloody sure of herself, which confused me even more!

Or maybe… she isn't part of the Dominion, I thought, my brow creasing as the gears of my mind grinded away in function.

Before I could point out the fact that what she had said made no sense, she spoke again.

"What's the last thing you remember?", she asked, completely objectively.

I didn't want to tell her anything. The kinds of things that the Aldmeri Dominion could use against you were staggering in their unlikeliness. But, then again, if I was kidnapped during the evacuation of my town before the Dominion attacked, then there's a chance that everyone there is dead. Sadness plucked at my heart painfully at the thought, but I knew that it was probably true. And even then there's a chance that this Khajiit isn't A.D. I might as well tell her anyway.

I thought for a moment to try and word it the best way I could. The two memories about that ancient, dark room, and the city that I remembered fighting in were probably irrelevant and untrue, so I went with the most coherent one.

"I remember helping my town evacuate civilians to avoid an imminent battle that we were warned about. An Aldmeri Dominion assault.", I said, my voice sounding unintentionally sad, even tough it wouldn't matter at this point.

The Khajiit's eyebrows raised in what seemed to be surprised. She thought for a moment, then said…

"Right, well, the best way to go about explaining this whole thing to you would be to present the facts, straight away". What 'whole thing'? What's she going on about, now? "You're probably not going to believe me, so I've gotten prepared to prove it to you", she continued, in a tone that had a hint of dread in it.

I was interested now. She must either be insane, or about to tell a lie, so this should be funny.

The cat took a deep breath.

"You are in the Solitude Jail, in Skyrim, and this is the 4th Era, Year 201. From what I've observed and read, I've reasoned that when you were evacuating your town, you were kidnapped by a cult of vampires that used an extremely specialized type of magic to transform you into a Gargoyle. Because of this, you have been alive for… well, a really long fuckin' time. No doubt you've heard of those tales about how ships regularly disappeared off the Northern coast of Skyrim."

The Khajiit brought out a book from her pocket and tossed it to me, forcing me to catch it.

"That book will explain the 'tales' that I'm talking about. Anyway, I don't know what you could have happened to you over the centuries, but you were recently used as an expendable soldier, a pawn, by a clan of vampires who inhabited a place called Castle Volkihar, not far from where those disappearing ships went missing. These vampires were planning to literally destroy the sun, until I came along and stopped them with the help of a vampire hunting organization called 'The Dawnguard'".

She was silent for a moment, to look down at her feet.

When she looked back up at me, she looked saddened, as was the way her voice sounded.

"I recently discovered that, given the right amount of potions, the Gargoyle effect can be reversed. So, I immediately went back to the ruins of Castle Volkihar to… try and find an intact Gargoyle so that I could have a chance to save it. You were among six others. The only surviving Gargoyles that lasted through my final battle with the vampire clans' leader, Lord Harkon. The other five died when I changed them back to their human forms. But you…"

The Khajiit stared at me for a long moment. She gave a small smile. "You lived… so I brought back to Solitude and found that book there (she pointed to the book I had in my hands), "and… now we're here", she finished, giving an open armed shrug.

I scowled at her in pure disbelief but… it made… sense. I had heard of those disappearing ships… and I supposed it… could have been possible… No. I had to be sure for certain, not to just go on her words.

I looked up at her after reading the book she had just given me, myself.

"Show me", I demanded.


	5. Shattered Remains

**Dovahkiin POV:**

I sigh and run my clawed hand through my mane, contemplating what to do. Should I really risk taking this woman back to show her what her dead brethren look like? She's the last of a lost era, and the dangerous on the way to the island are numerous. A predator could kill her, a bandit could shoot her, or she could end up getting some horrible disease she isn't immune to. I could give her armor and a weapon, but that puts my own life in danger. The Breton could promise me one thing, but she could throw that promise out the window the second she has a knife in her hand. I could take her to the island, and the woman could decide she wants to kill me.

From the look she's giving me I can tell that wouldn't be that far of a stretch. However, I can also see she won't believe me unless she has some sort of proof. There's a good chance I could protect us both, but there's still a chance the woman could simply run away. I don't want to chase her down, and I'm certain I would find her dead. Having Serana would be a major help, but the woman is long gone. Besides, I don't want to make the Breton wait any longer. I finally decide and tell the woman, "Wait here a moment, then I'll take you to your proof.". I unlock the door, exit the cell, and securely lock the door behind me. I quickly find a small length of rope, then return to the woman's cell.

I find the woman in the exact same position, her eyes looking at something I can't see. I get a feeling she's remembering something about her past, but right now I need her in the present. When I clear my throat the Breton slowly looks at me, her eyes reverting to normal. I hold up the rope and calmly tell her, "Please, I need to tie your wrist.". The prisoner cocks her head and asks, "Why?". I try to explain the situation in a simple term. "Insurance for both of us. You can't do anything rash, and I won't be too on guard around you.". The woman doesn't say another word, simply holding out her hands and allowing me to tie her wrists together in a way so she can't untie herself.

I nod in approval and tell her, "Stand up, I'll take you to your proof.". As I take the keys from my pocket I hear the woman asks, "What's your name?". I answer her question, then tell her, "You have my name, but I fear you don't have yours. Do you mind telling me?". Silence for a long moment is my only answer, but as I'm holding the cell door open for her the woman mumbles, "Aealynn.". I close the door as I say, "Thank you.". The Breton hesitates and waits for me to guide her out of the jail. As we leave Castle Dour we pass Legate Rikke and General Tullius, the two Legionnaires motioning at me in greeting as we walk by. I motion back to them and feel relief wash over me.

I was terrified Tullius would throw a fit over me taking a 'prisoner' away from him, but it seems he couldn't care less. As we walk through Solitude the Breton looks around at everything, nearly crashing into anything that could possibly be in her path. However, the people of the city make sure to give her the widest berth possible. They've seen what she's capable of, and are obviously terrified. I suppose that's good. At least they won't bother her or try to get her back for her little stunt. When we exit the city I pull out my map and slow down, looking for an easier path that the one I usually take.

The one I took with Serana led me past the cave that housed Potema, practically brushing a ruin crawling with angry bandits, and I had to go by some Altmer fort where they always scream at me to stay away. Besides, there's no true 'path', so I always increased the chance of being attacked by a predator. At one point I was even smashed against two mountains, the path below me slick with ice and snow. Serana and I may have been able to take that path, but there's no way a disoriented Breton with her hands tied can make the journey. I find a safer way to the castle, but it's a long way to go around the traditional path. We'd be down near Dragon Bridge before we finally turned to pass through the mountains, and even then we'd have to swing back north to get to the pier.

However, it's the only safe path I see. I put my map up and begin walking, the Breton trailing behind me. The path is clear, but I still keep my eyes peeled for any enemies. A light snow is beginning to fall, and enemies could easily hide in it. But no enemies arrive, and we make it to the pier without any incidents. The Breton looks reluctant to get in, but she has no other choice if she wants her 'proof'. I'm forced to row all the way there, the other woman's bound hands preventing her from helping. Now I know how Serana feels. The island is cold and dead around us, the dead bodies of The Dawnguard and The Volkihar alike littering the ground around us.

But the worst thing is the bits of gargoyle that are all around the battlefield. They were Harkon's last defenders, and The Dawnguard's armored trolls shattered them to pieces. Should I have cleaned up before bringing Aealynn here? Is she offended by the sight of her broken brethren, or does she not care in the slightest? She doesn't react to what she sees, so I'm going to go ahead and assume she no longer feels any kinship to the shattered gargoyles. Or maybe she does and is just masking her feelings. Maybe she just doesn't know how to react. I furrow my brow at the notions. There are far too many 'maybes' for my liking. My thoughts are shifted when I finally reach the door of the castle.

I step back and open it for the Breton, allowing her to enter before me. Even more shattered gargoyles litter the entrance hall, but thankfully they're the last ones we'll run into. Well, until I show her where she woke up. I carefully walk over the stones, guiding the Breton deeper into the castle. Down curling hallways, up spiraling stairs, through dark passages, and down more spiraling stairs. Wait, do I know where I'm going? I come to a dead end in the darkest part of a spiraling staircase, and I'm forced to awkwardly turn around in the small passage and tell the Breton, "Wrong way.". Without a word the woman turns around, and we begin going back up.

I realize how terribly dark it is, and cast a magelight spell. The other woman jumps at the sound and eyes my magic suspiciously, but doesn't question me or say anything cruel in response. I'm starting to regret my decision not to bring Serana, the woman would have made this trip so much easier. But I suppose it doesn't matter, I eventually find the place that the vampire took me. I lean against the door frame and motion inside the room, mimicking what Serana did to me the first time we came here. Aealynn slowly walks inside, looking all over the room. She goes over to the place where she was awoken, and kneels down beside the pedestal where she once stood for hundreds of years.

The woman feels the dust from the gargoyles, picking some up and allowing it to flow through her fingers. She stands up and just looks at the ground for a few minutes, then turns and begins walking to me. Before I can ask if she believes me, the woman whispers, "I'd like to leave now.". I nod and turn, leading her out of the castle. It takes a little while due to the fact I'm unfamiliar with the place, but eventually we reach the boat. The Breton's hands are still tied, and I'm not certain if I should free her. I eventually decide that wouldn't be a wise move, and continue rowing. Our walk back to Solitude is likewise uneventful, a deer crossing our path the only thing odd.

When we reach the city the sun is setting, and a guard only hesitantly lets us into the city. I can't blame him, we probably look like criminals. The Breton is tied up, and I'm a Khajiit. The Nords of Skyrim are already distrusting of outsiders, let alone one who's tied up and one who's a beast race. I stop inside the city, turn to Aealynn, and ask, "Would you like to sleep in your cell, or would you prefer the inn?". The Breton eyes me and questions, "You're giving me a choice?". I nod. There's no reason to make the woman sleep in her cell. She has a fire in prison, but it's not enough to chase off a chill if it decides to settle in the woman's bones. I'd like her to sleep in the inn, but I'm not going to push her into doing something that she wouldn't like.

The Breton looks at the ground for a few seconds and shuffles her feet, then finally answers, "The inn.". I nod and walk to The Winking Skeever, Aealynn still following me. When we're inside I quickly take a look around, examining the place for any possible dangers or hidden threats. The common room is swarming with people, the candles on every table burning low and sputtering in their own wax. The stove is cold and the main fire is out, but the place is still somehow warm and accepting. The people of the inn are well past drunk, and they no longer shy away from me or Aealynn. The place is in the middle of being remodeled, so everything is out of place and there's really no empty space.

However, it's not too bad. We should be able to sit down and have a few drinks if we want. I wade through the throng of people to get to the bar, the innkeeper eyeing me suspiciously. I pull some gold from my pocket and hand it to the man. "Two rooms.". He nods, hands me the keys, and points upstairs. I turn back to Aealynn and ask her, "Do you want to go to your room, or would you like a drink?". The Breton eyes the common area and answers, "My room.". I nod in understanding and lead her upstairs. I unlock one room and look inside. It has a window, so it's no good. I look at the other one and sigh in relief when this one lacks a window.

I turn to Aealynn and tell her, "I'll take off the rope, but I'm locking your door.". She nods and holds out her hands, allowing me to cut off the rope that binds her wrist together. I open her door and allow her to do inside, then shut and lock it behind her. The key needs to be put in a safe place, so I tie it to a string and hang it from my neck. As an afterthought, I put the key beneath my robes to make it even safer. I feel tiredness make its presence known in my back, and quickly go into my own room.

I can't lock the door from the inside, but I put a chair against it to prevent any unwanted visitors. As I lie down on my bed I swear I hear something. I stand and go over to the wall that connects with Aealynn's room, leaning in and placing my ear against the wood. I hear the faintest sobs and sniffling. Is she crying? Pity swells in my heart. Should I comfort her? No. Definitely not. I already know a little bit about what this woman is like, and I can tell she wouldn't appreciate being comforted by a complete strange. Instead, I lie down on my bed allow sleep to take me as a thousand thoughts rush through my head.


	6. Legalization

When I wake up I can't help yawning, my nap seeming to drain me instead of renewing me. I slowly stand and adjust my robes, the keys to my rooms _clanking_ against my Amulet of Julianos. I adjust the three strings before checking outside to see the time. It's morning, and I need to decide what to do with Aealynn. It's probably a good idea to get her citizenship legalized, The Legion doesn't take kindly to foreigners begin on their land. I decide that's a good plan and begin straightening myself out. I fix my mane, adjust my robes, and make myself presentable in general. When I'm ready I go over to the Aealynn's room and knock on the door. I hear the woman moving around inside, and after a few seconds she tells me, "I'm here.". I unlock her door and the Breton slowly walks out, her gaze never resting on one thing as she takes in all of her environment. I cough to get her attention and explain to her, "We need to legalize you as a citizen of Skyrim. If you'll follow me, then we'll go down to the office at The Blue Palace and get your paper work filled out.". The Breton's brows furrow and she tells me, "I don't want to be a citizen of Skyrim. I'm a citizen of High Rock.". She's just made everything a thousand times harder, but I assure her, "Fine, they'll fill out your forms and send it to the capital of High Rock. You'll be here on a temporary pass, but if that's what you want I'll give it to you.".

The Breton nods and I tell her, "I'm going to trust you and let you keep your hands free. Please, don't make me think I'm misplacing this small amount of trust.". The woman simply nods and begins following me as I walk away. The drinks from last night have worn off, and everyone's once again giving us wide berths. Probably for the best, the Breton's paranoia seems to have settled in once again. She follows me out of the inn, but I can see hesitation in her eyes. I can't even begin to imagine just how terrifying this is for her. She's awoken from hundreds of years of sleep by a stranger, she has no idea where she is, and so much has changed it's impossible to tell what's what. I try to have a little more sympathy as she lags behind me, still taking in the sights and looking around her. When we finally reach the palace the guards block our path, but I easily persuade them to let us in. Once we're inside I find Sybille, the woman in her room and reaching some book in a foreign language. I clear my throat and the woman holds up a finger, looking up at me once she's finished the page. "Hm?". I step to the side to reveal Aealynn. The Nord eyes her before asking, "That the one that went insane in the streets?". When I nod the queen's adviser says, "Interesting. Go away.". Sybille goes back to ready, and it's only then I'm reminded how bitter the woman is.

I clear my throat again and Sybille looks up, deeply sighing before asking, "Yes?". I once again motion at Aealynn and explain, "She isn't a citizen of any province. Can you please get her filed as a citizen of High Rock, and give her a visitor's pass to be in Skyrim?". The Nord shrugs and tells me, "I easily could. It would only take a few minutes, and I could have a bird sent to High Rock within an hour.". When she goes back to reading I grind my teeth, then calm myself down and ask, "Can you please do that for us?". Sybille puts the book to the side and makes a big deal out of it, finally yanking a piece of parchment and a quill from somewhere.

The Nord motions for the Breton to sit down and tells her, "I need to ask you a few questions before I can send your papers to High Rock.". Aealynn eyes the chair and hesitantly sits down, looking around the room and never allowing her eyes to settle. Before they start I ask the Breton, "Do you want me in the room for this? She might ask some personal questions.". The Breton suspiciously looks at me before telling me, "I would prefer it if you weren't here.". I nod in understanding and assure her, "I'll be waiting right outside for you when you're done.". I leave the room and shut the door, then lean against the wall and patiently wait for Sybille to be done questioning Aealynn about who knows what.

It takes about half an hour, but eventually they're done. Aealynn walks out of the room and looks a little surprised to see me, but doesn't try to escape or fight me. I push off of the wall and ask, "Did the paper work get sent? Are you officially legal?". A curt nod is my only reply, but I also notice the woman fiddling with a bit of paper in her pocket. I've already been thinking about what to do next, so I offer the woman, "Would you like to come back to Winterhold with me?". The Breton has never stopped looking at me, and asks, "Do I really have a choice?".

I shake my head and admit, "Winterhold is where I need to go, and I get a feeling it's also where you need to go. No place is safer, and it's the best place for me to do my research. I'll also be able to get you a little caught up to speed on the world, and introduce you to some natives of Skyrim.". The woman curls up her nose a little and assures me, "I'm not sure I want to meet any more natives of Skyrim.". I chuckle and agree, "I know how you feel. Now, are you ready to leave?". She nods and I begin walking away, trusting the woman to follow me. My trust isn't misplaced in this matter. The woman easily follows me, and eventually I don't feel the need to constantly look over my shoulder and check for her. I pay for a carriage and tell the Breton, "Be careful getting up, the step is lose.".

She doesn't acknowledge me, but she's careful getting up into the carriage. Once we're both settled the man slaps his horse on the ass, the carriage beginning to move as we head towards Winterhold. Both of us are silent as the horse and cart rumble down the track, the beautiful Skyrim scenery passing around us. I take a moment to admire the surrounding area, and I can't help wondering what Aealynn must be thinking. What must this be like for her? I can't imagine how lonely, fearful, and uncomfortable this entire experience must be. I also can't imagine what it's like to be as uneducated as she is. She has no idea what's been going on since the first era.

She missed The Oblivion Crisis, the reincarnation of Lord Indoril Nerevar, and everything else that's happened in this world. I'll have to fill her in on what happened eventually. She didn't choose to be frozen in time for hundreds of years, and she deserves to be caught up on the history of the world. However, I'll have to start small. Right now the woman doesn't even trust me, and I can't teach her anything if she's glaring at me the whole time. I'll have to allow her to slowly warm up to me until she can stand my presence, then I can start the process of catching her up on the ways of the world. Our carriage comes to a halt and I get out, instinctively offering the woman my hand to help her down. The Breton ignores it and nearly bust her knee open when she trips getting down, the icy ground unforgiving to anyone who doesn't know it.

Aealynn quickly stands, glaring at the ground at her minor sign of weakness. I ignore her actions in the hopes of sparing her pride, instead leading her up to the college. Halfway across the bridge Faralda stops us, the Altmer shivering in the winds as she asks, "Who goes there?!". I chuckle a little and tell her, "The damned Arch-Mage of the college you guard.". The woman realizes it's me and smiles. "It's about time you got back! Half the college is wondering where you went.". She sees the Breton and questions, "Who in oblivion is that?". I wave off her concerns and explain, "For right now she's simply my friend, but I promise I'll fill you in later.". Faralda shrugs and steps to the side, allowing us to pass. I turn to say something to Aealynn, but I stop at an accusing look on her face.

Odd, but I don't know what to expect from the woman. We're stopped one more time on our way to my room. Nirya and Enthir stop us, both of them greeting me in a friendly manner. Enthir hands me some ingredients from his home province of Valenwood and tells me, "A gift.". Nirya playfully brushes my shoulder with her golden hand and tells me, "It's been a wile since I've seen you, Arch-Mage. I almost forgot how good you looked. I hope you realize who was always supporting you.". I roll my eyes at the obvious bribe, both of the scholars have been trying to get on my good side for weeks now. When they're gone I take my supplies and once again resume walking up to my room, Aealynn eyeing me harder than ever.

When we're in my room I place my supplies down and motion around the place. "Make yourself at home, but please don't mess with any of my stuff. I have them in certain places for specific reasons, and if you move things I won't be able to find them.". The Breton nods and looks at my windows as she asks, "Can I explore the campus?". I sigh and tell her, "I was afraid you would as that.". I walk over to my desk, pull out a bracelet my predecessor used on unruly students, and walk over to her. I show her the band and explain, "It tracks you, and sets up an invisible fence. I can tell wherever you are at any given time, and it won't let you past certain points. It's also alert me if you continually press against the fence in an attempt to escape.".

The Breton looks at the band and asks, "Is that really a require precaution to make sure I don't get away?". I nod and elaborate, "It's important that you stay on campus ground, and I have to make sure you don't leave. It might seem a bit over the top, but it's necessary. Please don't make this any harder than it has to be.". The Breton sighs and holds out her wrist, an obvious approval to go ahead and place it on her. I thank her and put it on her. I pat her wrist and tell her, "Feel free to explore the campus, but it looks like a storm is coming in. If it hits you need to stay wherever you are for safety, but there's no rule stopping you from walking around in a blizzard if you wish.". The woman nods and quickly disappears, leaving me to my thoughts.

* * *

><p><strong>Due to Christmas, the next chapter will be delayed.<strong>


	7. Knowledge is Power

I yank my gigantic chest full of books out from underneath my bed, the wood _screeching_ against the stones. I go over to my nightstand, take four separate keys out of it, and go back to my chest. When it's unlocked I carefully open it, my treasured books inside. I collected these from the library months ago, but I only return them once I'm done reading them. The Orc who owns the books has gotten increasingly impatient with me, but he wouldn't dare demand something of his boss. It actually makes me feel a little guilty for not returning the books on time, but a woman can only read so fast.

I begin taking the books from my trunk, flipping through them, and placing them off to the side. In a few minutes I have two piles made. One for relevant books, and one for irrelevant books. I'm trying to find out about the Breton, and that means learning about the time period she was alive during. She mentioned something about 'The Alliance Wars', so I start there. I vaguely remember learning something about them in my youth, but the subject never really grasped my attention and I moved on. When I've gone through my chest I only have a small pile of relevant books, but it's more than I would have imagined. I put the irrelevant books back, take my relevant books in my arms, and walk them over to my studying table. When I'm settled down I grab the first book and begin to read.

_The War of the Three Banners_

_In the years leading up to the Alliance War (also called the Three Banners War) a divided Tamriel had witnessed a series of conflicts and crises that had inspired the different nations of the land to band together into three distinct alliances: the greater Daggerfall Covenant in 2E 566, the Ebonheart Pact in 2E 572, and the first Aldmeri Dominion in 2E 580. The competing ideologies of these alliances set them on a course for war; tensions between them were further exacerbated by the Soulburst and subsequent military aggression of the Empire of Cyrodiil under Empress Regent Clivia Tharn. Each alliance saw the opportunity to overthrow the corrupt Imperial regime and install their own emperor on the Ruby Throne, but also had to deal with the other two alliances. _

_As the armies of the Covenant, Pact, and Dominion invaded Cyrodiil with the goal of capturing the Imperial City, they additionally launched attacks against each other. The Alliance War's outcome is rather depressing. No side truly won, all three of the alliances only succeeded in ripping each other apart before Tiber Septim arrived and restored order to the land. The three alliances as well as the Empire of Cyrodiil had all ceased to exist by the Ninth Century of the Second Era. However, as of right now a new Empire of Cyrodill has risen from the ashes, and The Aldmeri Dominion are well on their way to becoming one of the world's largest powers._

That answers a few of my questions, but what in oblivion was the 'Soulburst'? Looks like more reading. I dig in my books, finally finding one.

_The Great Soulburst_

_The Soulburst of 2E 578 was a massive explosion of arcane energy which sundered the veil between Nirn and Oblivion, and disrupted the connection between the souls of the denizens of Nirn and their mortal hosts. The Elder Scrolls themselves named this event after it was set into motion. The necromancer Mannimarco had convinced the Cyrodilic Emperor Varen Aquilarios that, despite not being Dragonborn, as all true emperors must be, if they slightly modified the coronation ritual, they would be able to both relight the Dragonfires and convince Akatosh to gift Varen with the blood of a dragon. However, Mannimarco corrupted the Amulet of Kings, and, by performing the ritual, Varen broke the divine covenant of Akatosh and Alessia which protected Nirn from the forces of Oblivion. _

_As the veil shattered, a wave of magical energy radiated outwards from the Imperial City, and the Emperor Aquilarios was lost in the explosion. Mystical aftershocks propagated all across the planet, as mages died or went mad, while the constellation of the Serpent grew so large it dominated the night sky. Nirn became vulnerable to the forces of Oblivion, as Daedra began appearing in greater numbers than ever before. Molag Bal, the Daedric Prince of Domination and Mannimarco's master, seized the opportunity to begin disconnecting the souls of Nirn from their hosts to fuel the Planemeld, an attempt to merge his realm of Coldharbour with Nirn._

That sounds like something Molag Bal would do, and it explains a little. It still seems a little hard to wrap my mind around, but now I need to learn about the alliances. I already know about The Aldmeri Dominion, but that was after all of that happened. Besides, it's the first book on top. It was written by an Altmer, so the views might be a little skewed.

_The Glorious Dominion_

_The original Aldmeri Dominion, also known as the First Dominion, was an empire founded by Queen Ayrenn in 2E 582, in the midst of the Interregnum. It was conceived after Ayrenn assumed the throne of Alinor. Having traveled Tamriel extensively before returning to the Summerset Isles, she was aware of the dire threats menacing the world and saw it as the proper duty of the Elves to put things right. At the same time, the Bosmer and Khajiit were facing troubles of their own and in need of allies. _

_Consequently, the Summerset Isles, Valenwood, and Elsweyr joined together to form the Dominion, which warred with the rival Daggerfall Covenant and Ebonheart Pact over possession of Cyrodiil's Ruby Throne and control of Tamriel. The First Dominion's ultimate goal was to usher in a new age of Elven rule across Tamriel in order to protect the land from the careless actions of the younger races. The Dominion slowly died out over time after The Alliance War was over, but was revived later in history._

_The Second Dominion was formed in 2E 830 when the Summerset Isles conquered Valenwood over a dynastic dispute. When the heirs of the Camoran Dynasty sought to capture Valenwood's throne, a faction of Bosmer attempted to make peace with their enemies in the Colovian Estates by offering part of the Valenwood territory in exchange for the faction's own claimant. The Altmer, upon hearing of this, invaded Valenwood, citing a stewardship clause in a thousand-year-old treaty between their nations. The Altmer established the Thalmor as the new government in Valenwood on behalf of their claimant Camoran Anaxemes, whose ancestors had made the treaty. _

_Since the Interregnum still gripped Tamriel, the Colovian armies were easily forced back by the Elves and the Second Aldmeri Dominion was born. Over the next several years, the Thalmor strengthened their hold on Valenwood and Bosmer tribes continued to skirmish with the Colovian Estates. The Elves also made allies with some Reachmen, the Maormer of Pyandonea, and the Elsweyr Confederacy. Meanwhile, Tiber Septim rose to power in Cyrodiil and began his conquest of Tamriel. The nascent Third Empire expanded and encroached on Dominion territory, forcing the Bosmer attacks to subside. _

_Despite their military setbacks on land, at sea the Elven forces were considerably more powerful and steadfastly held the southern waters from the Cape of the Blue Divide to the Topal Bay. Although there was no formal declaration of war between the Dominion and the Empire, Tamriel had become divided between them in an unfolding clash of civilizations. The catastrophic use of the Numidium ended the long confrontation in 2E 896, resulting in the surrender of the Summerset Isles and the human conquest of Tamriel. The Second Dominion would represent the last time for centuries that the Elves of Tamriel ruled sovereign kingdoms on the continent, the legacy of the Direnni and Aldmer holdings._

It goes on to explain the thrid Dominion, but that's not important right now. I suppose that's why the Breton thought I was in the Altmer Dominion. I'll have to explain to her what happened after she was gone, and why the Altmer and Khajiits aren't exactly on good terms anymore. But I'll save that for later, now I need to read about the alliance the woman said she was in. If I remember correctly it was 'The Daggerfall Covenant'. It's written by a Redguard, so I'd expect this book to be bias as well.

_The Covenant of Heroes: The Second Covenant_

_The Daggerfall Covenant was a military alliance between the kingdoms of High Rock, Hammerfell, and Orsinium during the chaotic Interregnum of the Second Era. It vied with the Aldmeri Dominion and Ebonheart Pact for control over the contested Ruby Throne in Cyrodiil. The Covenant saw itself as the successor to the Reman Dynasty and aimed to restore the Second Empire with the legitimacy to rule all of Tamriel. They advocated economic prosperity and the worship of the Divines. In this mission it was led by a Royal Council, presided over by High King Emeric, a Breton merchant lord of superb diplomatic skill. The Redguards were represented by King Fahara'jad, and the Orcs by King Kurog gro-Bagrakh. When the Covenant fell there were a few attempts to revive it, but none succeeded ell enough to breathe life into the dead alliance._

A king ruling over kings? Odd, but I've learned something about the Breton now. Maybe she'll be more comfortable around Redguards or Orcs. I'll have to see if I can contact any of my Redguard or Orc allies around Skyrim, and find out if they'd care to help put the woman at ease as she learns. I find another book and realize it's the bottom of the pile. It's on the Ebonheart Pact, then I'll have a better idea of what the Breton lived through. This one is written by an anonymous author, but I'm still going to take it with a grain of salt just in case.

_The Pact of Dragons_

_The Ebonheart Pact was a military alliance between Morrowind, Eastern Skyrim, and Black Marsh during the chaotic Interregnum of the Second Era. It vied with the Aldmeri Dominion and Daggerfall Covenant for control over the contested Ruby Throne in Cyrodiil. It was a creation of unlikely allies, who had long histories of strife between them, but united for mutual defense, first against Akaviri invaders and later against the Daedric cultists of Molag Bal in Cyrodiil. They aimed to wipe away the rash rule of the Empire and end once and for all mortals' entanglements with higher power from beyond Nirn. The Pact was led by Jorunn the Skald-King, who headed the Great Moot, as well as the three living gods of the Dunmer. This alliance died with the Covenant, never to be revived._

'Living Gods'? What in oblivion does that mean? I go back to my trunk, find a book on the Dunmer, and begin flipping through it. I find out what it means near the end of the book, my eyes blurring together in tiredness.

_The Tribunal, also called 'Almsivi', is the triune of Almalexia, Sotha Sil, and Vivec worshipped by the Dunmer, with the exception of Ashlanders. They ruled the Dunmer as living gods from a few years after the Battle of Red Mountain circa 1E 700 until the cataclysms of the Nerevarine Prophecies around 3E 427, followed by the Red Year of 4E 5, made the Dunmer revert to their traditions of pure Daedra and ancestor worship, relegating the Tribunal to saints._

My back and eyes are beginning to pound in pain, the world outside my window completely dark. It's already night? That can't be possible, I've only been reading a few minutes. Where is Aealynn? What's she been doing for the last few hours? I slowly stand up, determined to find the Breton.


	8. Escaping the Past

**Aealynn POV:**

I cautiously walk around the new terrain, on the lookout for any members of The Aldemir Dominion or The Ebonheart Pact. The Khajiit that revived me assured me she wasn't with the Thalmor, but she seemed awfully chummy with the Altmer and Bosmer I saw earlier. She's playing some odd game of cat and mouse. It'll just take me a short while to figure out exactly how. The woman is probably just trying to earn my trust to use against me. I'm not certain how, but she's doing it. There has to be some bigger picture she's working for, some secret motive she's hidden at her heart. She showed me where I was awoken, but I'm still not entirely sure what's going on in Tamriel at the moment.

For all I know everyone word out of the Khajiit's mouth could be a tremendous lie. I'm probably little more than a pawn to her, and I could unknowingly be going in the direction she wants. If she thinks I'll just sit back and allow her to control me, then she has another thing coming! I just need to find someone I can trust. Someone with The Covenant. I try to push open the doors from where I came from, but a strong gust of wind forces them closed. Damn, the storm from earlier must have intensified while I was upstairs. Now where can I go? The main hall of the building is gently humming with activity, so I decide to go there.

I carefully crouch down and get behind a pillar, examining everyone in the room and deciding who can help me. A male Khajiit, female Dunmer, and male Nord are laughing and joking in a corner. No good, all of them would turn me into the woman that 'freed' me. However, I see the perfect person sitting down and reading a book. Another Breton is oblivious to the laughing people, flipping through a tome and humming a tune. He might not be ideal, but he'll at least contact The Covenant and tell them I'm alive. If I'm lucky her might even be able to help me escape the Khajiit. Now, how can I approach him?

Simply sitting down and starting to talk to him would be too suspicious, we'd get caught instantly. A note would be better, but I don't have any of the necessary supplies on me. Could I find a way to distract the Dunmer, Nord, and Khajiit? No, the room is too open and exposed for a successful diversion. The Breton stands up, says something to the group of enemies, and begins walking away. I hide behind the pillar as he passes, but I'm certain he's seen my fingers. If he did he shows no sign, simply walking past me and into the entrance area. I make sure the group of people doesn't see me as I carefully leave, attempting not to draw attention to myself.

The man opens a door and goes down some stairs, still humming to himself. I count to twenty, then rush down after him. The room I'm in appears to be a gigantic library, the entire place smelling of jasmine. By the entrances are a total of five bookcase that look crammed full of tomes and scrolls. However, everything in the place is covered in locks in order to prevent stealing. There is a mammoth tusk on top of one of the bookcases with a round wooden table and chairs nearby. There are dozens tables and chairs arranged in small group around the room with stacks of colorful and plain books on every available surface.

There are many bottles of beer, whiskey, and wine with goblets on the tables, but there's not a single speck of food in the whole place. The counter is at the far end where a gruff Orc in chewing on his lips. That's good, another person who can help me. Behind the Orc and against the rear wall is a clearly locked display cabinet containing a few obviously rare books. However, the lock is thick and I doubt there's even a key to it. Further around to the left is a tremendous chest I'm certain has wondrous treasure in it, but I'm certain the key is nowhere to be found. There are partition walls segregating the outer ring of the room from the central reading area, providing a clearly dividable line that goes around the room.

A few people are mulling around the room, but the Breton has moved himself away from everyone else. I also see a piece of paper and a quill on one of the tables. I grab the supplies and sneak off into a corner, making sure nobody's seen me. I write a hasty note on the paper, then reread it to see if it meets my standards of what asks for help without giving away information. _I'm with the dragon. Tell the ruler I live, or help me escape the crushing paw of the cat. _It seems good enough. I fold the paper and begin walking around the library, trying to act casual and occasionally looking at a book that isn't locked up. I pass the man a few times without doing anything, then casually drop the note by him as I walk by.

I scuttle off to my hideout, looking over at the Breton and trying to see what he'll do. He does absolutely nothing, continuing to read his book. Damn, he didn't even see me drop the note! I walk by him, snatch my note off the floor, and repeat what I did before. This time I drop it on his table, right in front of his tome. When I'm safely seated I watch him again, but this time I get a reaction. The man slowly closes his tome, places it to the side, and picks up the note. I see his brow furrow as he reads it, then the man crumbles the paper up and tosses it to the side. What was that?!

Did he not understand the note? Fine, I guess I'll have to write him a simpler one. This one simply says 'help' on it. It might be a little too obvious for my liking, but I need to get out of this place. Quickly. I repeat exactly what I did the last time, but drop the note closer to him. When I'm a safe distance away I turn around, watching for his reaction. The man deeply sighs, puts his book off to the side, and unfolds my note. The Breton shakes his head and flicks the paper off to the side, then picks up his book and resumes reading. Damn, what do I have to do? Write my entire story down on a piece of paper and give it to him?

I'm out of paper, but there are plenty of books around me. I stealthily grab one, carefully rip out a single small section, and write a more direct note on the blank pieces of the page. '_I'm with The Daggerfall Covenant, and I'm being held prisoner here. Please, help me escape or at least tell the others that I'm alive and relatively unhurt.' _If this doesn't work, then I don't know what will. I'm tired of doing everything stealthily, so I simply walk by him quickly and slide the note onto his table as I pass. When I'm seated I once again watch the Breton, curious to see his reaction to such a direct note. Surely he can't ignore this one or just crumble it off to the side.

The man reads it, groans, and loudly complains, "Stop this. I'm not sure what sickness has gotten into your brain, but I don't want to have to stop reading every three seconds because you drop a piece of paper near me.". Not exactly the response I expected, but now I can see how badly The Dominion's influence has spread. The man is either on their side, or so deep undercover he doesn't even realize I'm a fellow member of The Daggerfall Covenant. However, the Orc behind the counter looks more promising. He's older and looks mentally stronger, so he might still be able to help me.

But I'll have to act quickly, there's no telling if the Khajiit is watching me or not. I rip another small portion of a book up and scribble down, '_I'm a fellow dragon trapped beneath the cat's paw. Help me escape to the homeland, or tell the kings I am alive and well.'. _It's cryptic, but the Orc looks smart enough to be able to tell what it is. I get up and casually begin looking around the room, slowly walking the perimeter of the room. When I pass him I drop the note beside him, then walk back to my seat and sit down to watch his reaction. The Orc gives me an odd look, then picks up the piece of paper and reads it.

The Orc gets an angry look on his face, wads up the paper, and throws it to the side. Damn it! What's with everyone today?! I suppose I'll just have to be more direct and hope he finally gets the point. I scribble down, _'I'm a fellow member of the Covenant trapped beneath the Khajiit's capture. Help me escape to Daggerfell, or tell our kings I am alive and well.'. _It's identical to the note I wrote him three seconds ago (with minor alterations), but it'll suffice in getting my point across. I once again put the note on his desk, scuttling away before the man can react. He opens the paper, then motions at the Breton man to come over.

The two men lean in and mumble to one another, both of them occasionally shooting me glances. Finally, the Orc whispers something in the other man's ear and the Breton disappears. The Orc stays where he is and begins reading, but I see him occasionally looking at me from behind his scroll. When the Breton returns he's practically dragging the Khajiit behind him. Damn, what's she doing here?! Did they really blow the plan?! The Orc, Breton, and Khajiit all get together and whisper among themselves. Finally, the Khajiit speaks loud enough that I can hear her.

"I'm sorry, I'm certain she didn't know. I'll just explain it to her. I'm sure she didn't mean anything.". The Orc snorts and growls, "She tore up my damned books.". The Khajiit sighs and pulls out her coin purse, beginning to count some coins. "I'm truly sorry. I swear it won't happen again.". The man snatches the coins and assures, "You're damned right it won't happen again, I don't want to see her anywhere in here!". The woman nods and mumbles one more apology, then walks over to me. She clears her throat and asks, "Why are you ripping up library books?". I don't want to admit my plan to her, so a simple shrug is her answer.

The mage sighs and says, "Fine, keep your secret. But please refrain from ripping up books, the librarian is ready to take off both of our heads.". I guess the notes weren't working, so I suppose I won't do it again. I nod to assure the woman that. The Khajiit nods back and says, "Good, I'm glad we've come to a mutual agreement. Now, please follow me.". I don't want the woman to get suspicious of what I did, so I follow her without complaint. When we're back in her room the Khajiit begins packing items in a trunk, explaining, "I want to teach you about the world, and have you interact with people in a positive manner. Winterhold isn't the place for that, but Whiterun is good. Now, do you wish to go? We can stay at the college, but it doesn't look like you like it here.". I have a better chance escaping in Whiterun, so I nod and begin helping her. The gears in my head are already churning.


	9. First Lessons

**Dovahkiin POV:**

The carriage slowly comes to a halt, the horse snorting and tearing up the ground in frustration. I can't blame the poor beast, we had to take the long way to Whiterun due to some bandits. I quickly pay the man the fee, pick up my belongings, and hop off the carriage. Aealynn slowly trails after me, her eyes darting everywhere. A small ember of pity is smoldering in my heart. The Breton is still thinking of me as an enemy, and attempting to escape from my sights. I took her to where she awoke, but she still hasn't fully come to terms with what happened. I'll just have to be patient with her. I know the heavy news she got can't be easy to take, but eventually she'll come to terms with what has occurred to her.

She'll just have to do it in her own time. I'll have to respect that. The guards at the gate open the doors for us, but I can see them eyeing Aealynn with distrust. Oh by the gods I hope the Nords don't give Aealynn a hard time. It's hard being a Breton in Skyrim, but at least we aren't in Markarth. If I had taken her to The Reach everything would have been a thousand times harder. My arm suddenly shakes at the weight of the trunk in my grasp, so I begin walking a little bit faster. I start to head to my home in Whiterun, then remember a crucial fact. It's completely unfurnished. Damn, I'll have to take Aealynn to the inn. I quickly head in that direction.

I carefully place my trunk down by the door and go over to the bar. The innkeeper is busy cleaning a filthy mug with a filthier rag, but puts her items down and focuses on me. I pull some coins from my purse and hand them to her. "Enough for five days. I'll give you more when the time is up.". The Nord nods and pockets the gold, then motions to the second floor as she tells me, "Don't mess anything up too badly.". I go back to Aealynn, pick up my trunk, and tell her, "Follow me to our room.". The Breton nods and trails after me, the entire bar slowly quieting down as they eye the new woman.

Damn, the Nords are really making it difficult for me to put trust in them. I know Ysolda and Hulda won't give the woman a hard time, but what about the other bar patrons? I don't want my lessons to be interrupted by a screaming Nord or a sudden bar brawl. But I'm out of options at the moment, so I just continue carrying my trunk up to my room. Once I'm inside I allow Aealynn in, then close the door behind her. I consider locking it for safety, but decide that might make the Breton on edge. And, calmness is a key in most of the lessons I teach. You can't learn anything if your blood is pumping with fury or passion. I slowly put my trunk on the floor, then walk over to the second door in our room. It opens onto a small balcony, the entire bar visible.

On the balcony is a cupboard against the south wall and a low table and two low chairs to the north. I might have to do some lessons out here. Eventually, and if the Breton ever feels like it. I turn back into the room, Aealynn awkwardly standing beside my trunk near the door. I look around the room once, taking in everything in the place. There is a large double bed against the west wall, with an end table to the right and I'm standing in the doorway to the left of it. A second end table is to the left of the doorway to the balcony and opposite against the east wall is a dresser, with a washbasin to the left. Everything seems to be in order, so I walk back into the room.

I consider leaving the door to the balcony open, but too much noise is coming up from the bar. I go ahead and close the door, then turn back to the room. I go over and pick up my chest, putting it in a corner. I turn back and see Aealynn sitting on the bed. I'd planned on starting a late lesson today, but a sharp pain in my stomach stops me. I'm starving, and I need to go get a early dinner. However, that would require leaving Aealynn alone. Can I really trust her after what she did at the college? I really _need_ to get something to eat, but the safety of the Breton should come before a little pang in my stomach. Should I tie her hands so she can't get away?

No, I should have at least a little faith in her. I clear my throat and ask the woman, "Do you want anything to eat.". She blinks and calmly mumbles, "Bread.". I nod and leave the room, making sure to keep an ear open for footsteps following me. She doesn't follow me, so I can assume I'm relatively safe from the threat of her running away. Now all I have to do is get some food, and think of a decent plan for her lesson. Where do I even start? Right after she disappeared, or do the most important stuff first? Maybe I can tell her about the Nerevarine and the Hero of Kvatch, two of the most important people in history. But I don't think she'd care about either of those.

The Dunmer were working against her, and the Imperials never had any particular alliance. The Breton would have no pity for the plights their people went through, and probably just brush off the lesson. A brilliant idea hits me. I'll teach her about The Forsworn of The Reach! The next second I'm nearly slapping myself for how stupid that idea is. It'll get her pissed at the Nords, and she'll loose all respect for Ulfric Stormcloak. I don't have any particular alliance in the civil war in Skyrim, but if Ulfric becomes king I don't want her trying to kill him. But what is there left to teach her? I like my own provinces's history. Would she like learning about the Khajiits?

They actually might be a horrible idea. Actually, I _know_ it's a horrible idea. Another brilliant idea hits me, and this one sticks. I'll teach her about her own history! Damn, sometimes it surprised me how long it takes me to realize things. With my new idea I happily buy some food, gather it in my arms, and rush back to my room. The Breton jumps up a little when I come in the room, but calms down when she sees it's me. I hand her the food I brought for her, then begin tearing into my own meal. When we're both done I happily ask her, "Would you like to learn about the Bretons' history?".

The woman looks completely shocked, but regains her composer and nods. I smile and grab a book from my trunk, sitting down by the woman. I'm on the floor, but she's sitting on the bed. This slight height difference might put her at ease, and allow her to learn easier. I stretch my hands and ask her, "Would you like me to begin?". She nods and I tell her, "I'm just going to start at the beginning of the book and read from there, and I'll elaborate later. Sound good to you?". When she nods I truly start telling her about her own history.

"There is evidence of human settlements in High Rock dating back at least a thousand years before recorded history. Before or soon after the start of the First Era, Aldmer came to High Rock from the Summerset Isles and interbred with Nedes, eventually creating the Breton race. The Aldmer were believe to be accompanied by Alyied Elves that were cast to after a change of leadership in Cyrodiil, after the slave rebellion. We might hit on that later. Anyway, moving on. Sometimes there was conflict, but also long periods of coexistence in a multiracial society. While the Aldmer maintained control of Tamriel, the Man lived as lower-class citizens, supporting their elven brethren. Notably, this subservience and general harmony meant they were spared during the Night of Tears (an Aldmer attack of Saarthal). The elves that attacked Saarthal were the ancestors of the Falmer. I don't know if you had Falmer in your time, but we'll hit on them later. Moving on.".

"The Skyrim Conquests brought much of High Rock under the control of the Nords around 1E 246, though they would lose control around 1E 369 as a result of Skyrim's War of Succession. They apparently never controlled Wayrest, which likely wasn't founded until several hundred years later. Around the same time, the Alessian Order would make campaigns against the Direnni, weakening them enough for the locals to rebel against them. Most of High Rock would be free from elven control by 1E 498, though they would remain in the province for most of the First Era. Other historical enemies of Bretons, besides each other, include Orcs and various supernatural creatures that roam High Rock.".

I look up at her and ask, "Am I going to fast?". I've made sure to go at a slower pace, but even that might be too fast for some people. However, the woman nods and assures me, "It's fine.". I nod and go back to reading.

"Over time, the emerging Bretons absorbed the remaining Nordic and Imperial population in High Rock, and the land would be definitively Breton by the end of the First Era. Tiber Septim's- I'll teach you about him later- Empire would later easily conquer the squabbling kingdoms that emerged during the Interregnum, but would find it impossible to truly squash the sectarian conflicts between them that hampered trade and prosperity. Since most Emperors in the Third Era were Bretons, or had spent their youth in High Rock, Bretons were generally supportive of Imperial rule, but were often disgruntled by its inefficacy at protecting them from violent conflicts.".

"It wasn't until the Miracle of Peace (some king died and an upheaval in Hammerfell and High Rock started) that the problem would at least be reduced: the roughly two dozen fiefdoms dotting southern High Rock (where the great majority of the people are located), were united into three kingdoms: Daggerfall, Wayrest, and Orsinium (the Orc's newer homeland). To my current knowledge Wayrest is destroyed, but Daggerfall and Orsinium still stand.".

I close the book and tell her, "That finishes the main part of the history, but I'm sure I can find a more detailed book. Eventually. Anyway, do you want to hear what the book has to say about Breton architecture?".

She nods again and I restart, "The word most often used to describe Breton villages is "quaint". Function is valued over form, resulting in earthern, hand-crafted dwellings free from ornament. Most people in High Rock live in small cottages; only the nobility and their servants stay in large castles. Despite efforts under Tiber Septim to demilitarize the province by demolishing defensive structures, many villages are still surrounded by high walls, and fortresses dot the landscape. Not much architecture wise has changed since the Bretons first started building, and it's unlikely it'll change anytime soon.". I continue speaking, our lesson stretching on into the night.


	10. Magical Anomalies

"During the campaign, which became widely known as the 'Siege of Orsinium', the Breton armies of Daggerfall, the Redguard soldiers of Sentinel, and the Yokudan Order of Diagna, invaded the Orc homeland. The Orcs gave much resistance and proved themselves to be fearsome and brutal warriors, just as they did in the past. Eventually however, after a 30 year siege, the allied forces breached Orsinium and overran the city, completely razing it in 1E 980. Although this marked the destruction of Orsinium, the Orsimer homeland would rise again.". I close the book, Aealynn still sitting on the bed as I adjust myself on the floor.

I put the book to the side and ask her, "Did you enjoy the lessons?". A shrug is my only answer. Ah well, at least it wasn't a curse or attack. Besides, I'm certain the woman enjoyed it to an extent. However, there's something more important than fun. "Did you learn anything from the book?". A nod is my only answer, but it's more than sufficient. I need the woman to learn about the history of the world, and what occurred while she was trapped inside a gargoyle's stone skin. Enjoyment is a pleasurable bonus, but not a necessity. I put the books up and finally stand, popping my back as I try to think of what to do next. Faith decides for me with a knocking on my door. I rush over as quickly as I can, adjusting my robes as I go to make myself look professional.

When I open the door a frazzled Nord practically falls into the room, the man panting and his face purple. I pat the exhausted man on the back and consider going to get him a drink of water, but his hand comes up and grabs my wrist. I freeze up and ask him, "What's wrong?". He stands up, gulps a mouthful of his own spit, and groans, "Magical anomalies are attacking the town. Everyone has tried fighting them off, but the damned beasts are too powerful. We need a mage to help us. You're the only one in the town, you _must_ help us! If you don't the whole town will perish!". Well, that's some good incentive to get someone to do what you want.

I nod and tell the man, "I'll come at once.". I turn to Aealynn and question, "Would you like to help me rid Whiterun of magical anomalies?". The Breton nods and stands up, but I realize the woman is unarmored and unarmed. I quickly take the Nord by the shoulder and ask him, "Can you help my companion find some armor and a good weapon or two?". The messenger nods and motions for the Breton to follow him. I'm worried for a moment she won't allow herself to be led by a Nord, and insist on going into battle completely unprepared. However, the woman has enough respect to simply allow the man to lead her to wherever they're going to get armor. I make my way down to the front of the inn, waiting for the Breton.

When she returns I see her outfitted in some old leather armor, and an iron sword hangs from her belt for some reason. Damn, I almost forgot this place is an inn. This is probably the only things they have lying around. Oh well, I'll find her some better supplies later. I wave the Nord man over and ask him, "Where are the creatures?". He points out toward the city and tells me, "By Ysolda's house, near Jorrvaskr, up in front of Dragonsreach, and they're swarming around the main gate.". I mentally scream every foul word I can think of. Those places are scattered, and the anomalies could easily flee about the city as I go about destroying them.

Also, the anomalies are so well spread out that every single citizen is in danger. I'll have to do this quick for the sake of the city, and all of the people who live here. I turn to Aealynn and ask, "Are you ready to go?". She nods and pulls her sword from its scabbard, the blade spotted with rust and dried blood. I put my hand on the door, prepare a fiery spell in my free palm, and tell the Breton, "Come on, let's go save some lives.". I push open the door and step outside, the entire city silent and abandoned. I prepare a lightning spell in my other hand, scanning the entire city to see where to head next. Ysolda's house is the closest, and I can see a few of the monsters near the door.

A perfect place to start. I tense my wrist, take careful aim at an anomaly, and let one of my spells fly. The beast screams when it's hit, wobbling in the air and letting out an inhuman groan. That's when the real fighting begins. I intended to keep my distance from the creatures, but that presents too many problems. It's harder to aim, the anomalies have a better chance of escaping, and we could easily attract more of the monsters. So, I put up a quick shield spell and get closer to the magical anomalies. I make sure I have a building to my back, so the creatures can't flank me or attack me from behind. That's when all the creatures around Ysolda's house take notice of me.

It's like someone's opened the floodgates. The creatures swarm around me, the wounded one the only anomaly unable to join in the fight against me. I hear a war cry and hear an anomaly scream as it dies, but the swarm of creatures around me block my view. And, I'm far too busy fighting them off to notice much else. There are multiple creatures, but the beasts aren't smart enough to organize themselves. So, they all attack me at random intervals that suit them best. At times three of them will attack at once, but at other times none of them are attacking. However, this gives me plenty of time to counterattack the creatures with my spells.

The monsters might not be smart, but they sure know when they're about to die. Whenever one is close to death it panics and tries to escape, but can't push itself out of the throng of its brethren. The anomalies are trapped by themselves, and doomed to die because of their lack of escape route. That makes the first line of them easily killed, but there are still plenty to be killed. However, I hear a few in the back begin screaming in agony. It seems Aealynn is helping by taking out the few in the back, and cutting off the escape route. Perfect, now I just have to focus on not dying while I weed the anomalies out. I've faced more powerful creatures, but not in such great numbers.

Even a few of their attacks are leaving me short of breath. But it's my magic supply I'm most worried about. I have a dagger hidden in my boot, but that's the only weapon I have besides spells. My thoughts are cut off by an anomaly screaming and diving at me, attempting to wrap its tiny jaws around my arm. A single flame spell sends it running away over the top of its companions, the beast yelping as it goes. But its scream tells me that Aealynn cut the creature's escape short. Good. The throng of monsters is beginning to become thinner, and I can see flashes and glimpses of Aealynn as she rushes about, doing unseen attacks to kill the anomalies in the back.

I have no idea why the anomalies didn't swarm around Aealynn when she showed up, but now isn't the time to be questioning that. I'm shooting another spell at an anomaly when I hear an odd noise that grabs my attention. I turn my head for a brief second and see another wave of anomalies rushing towards us. Fuck. I shoot my spells even faster and Aealynn rushes about as quickly as she can, both of us desperately trying to kill the first wave before the second one reaches us. We manage it, but barely. The last anomaly of the first wave is screaming as he dies when the second wave reaches us, the creatures seemingly angered by their brethren's death.

Not good. The anomalies circle Aealynn and once again corner me against the wall, all of the creatures eager to attack the only people in the city that aren't hiding. These ones are just as strong as the last ones, but there's a major difference. Aealynn and I can't work together, so we're both facing fronts of anomalies alone. But it's worse for Aealynn, she's surrounded. I quickly take it upon myself to kill the anomalies as quickly as I can, and assist Aealynn. I don't want the woman to get shredded to pieces by magical creatures. I actually don't want _anyone_ to get shredded to pieces by magical creatures. I knock off my spells and activate two more powerful ones, preparing for a real fight.

The anomalies seem to realize there's only one of me, and somewhere in their little minds they also realize that they're more than one. The beasts aren't exactly working together, but they're coming up with a sort of primitive strategy. One bites me, stops, and then they all wait for another one to bite. The gaps in between bites are short, the monsters quickly working out a sort of 'pattern'. The farthest one on the right bites me, the farthest one of the left bites me, the one dead in the middle bites me, and then it's a free for all for anyone who feels the need to bite me. When I realize their pattern I quickly work out a pattern of my own.

I find which one is going to bite me next, then shoot it with one of my spells. A smarter enemy would realize what I'm doing, but the anomalies are stupid enough to fall for my pattern. Three of them quickly scream and explode, their last act injuring me. All the other anomalies fled before their deaths, but these seem intent on fighting until the last moment. That means every single one I kill explodes, and is close enough to hurt me. I can _feel_ my health slowly leaving me, and my movements become slower. One of my destructive spells is replaced by a healing spell, and I spare a few minutes to patch myself up. I go back to fighting, and inhuman screams from somewhere else tell me that Aealynn is doing fine.

I gather all of my magicka, choose the most powerful spells at my disposal, and let loose. It's only a matter of a minute or two before the beasts are dead, the ground covered in their disgusting gooey corpses. I see Aealynn finishing off the last one, her sword now covered in ectoplasm instead of blood. I walk over and manage to pant, "Are you okay?". She nods, but I can see a few wounds on her. I fish out a potion of healing and offer it to her, and down a potion of magic myself. When we've downed our potions the Breton asks, "Was that all of them?". A scream from deeper in the city answers her question, but I go ahead and confirm in by shaking my head. "There are more, and according to the messenger there are a ton more. Care to help me clear out the city?". She nods and I tell her, "Let's go.". I activate my spell, the day barely started.


	11. Wounds and Questions

The anomalies are all gathered in the market area, destroying everything they can reach. I see a shredded guard lying face down in a pool of his own blood, the man's bow a few feet away from him. Poor bastard. Must have tried to do his job and defend the city. The man didn't even stand a chance, the anomalies are far too powerful for mere guards to take down. However, I notice something more worrying. Ysolda, a child, and the bard from The Bannered Mare are inside one of the stalls, using the place as a shield from the anomalies. And, the wood is beginning to break. We'll have to act quickly. But I'm starting to think that the anomalies might be too powerful for me and Aealynn to take down.

At least, in the same way we took the other anomalies down. A thought comes to mind and I motion for the Breton to come over to me. The woman was surveying the area to see where to attack, but at my motion she jogs over to me. I keep my eyes on the anomalies as I tell her, "I have a plan, but I need your cooperation for it. Would you like to help me?". She eyes the creatures and asks, "What's this 'plan' of yours? Am I the bait in some over the top trap that probably won't work?". I shake my head and assure her, "The plan will work perfectly.". The Breton sighs and says, "You didn't say I wasn't the bait.". I nod and agree, "I never said you weren't the bait because I'm not a fan of lying. But you aren't exactly 'bait' like a worm.".

The Breton just keeps eyeing the anomalies and tells me, "Just spit out whatever plan you've got.". I nod and begin relaying the plan. "You'll run out, get their attention, and run back to Ysolda's house. I'll be on the roof of the building across from it, with my most powerful spell ready. When the anomalies go by I'll hit them. The spell is a beam, so it'll take out all of them as long as they run towards you. They'll catch on and try to escape, but I can move the beam around and hit all of them before they manage to turn around.". The Breton eyes me and questions, "What about me? Why am I the bait?". I answer her honestly, I truly don't see a point in lying to the woman.

"You're the bait because you can run faster, and can probably hide better. Just jump in a barrel or behind the home. Besides, the anomalies will turn all of their attention to me. That means you're safer than me, and there's less of a chance they'll get to you. Is that okay, or do you have a better plan? If you do, then I'll be happy to listen.". The Breton shrugs and suggest, "Just use the spell from here.". I shake my head and point to the trapped citizens, the anomalies still trying to get to them. The woman sighs and mumbles, "Fine.". She suggests something else, "Can we just charge in there and take care of them?". I give her a skeptical look. We can both see how many anomalies there are.

The woman sighs and gives in. "I'll do it. Just make sure that you have the spell ready.". I nod. I'm planning on using the Lightning Storm spell on the anomalies. It's one of the most powerful master spells I have, and it's taken out multiple gigantic herds of enemies before hand. However, it's a major drain on my magic. I'm not sure how long I can hold the ray, but I'm certain I can hold it long enough to take out all of the anomalies. If I don't have enough and the stream begins breaking up, then I'll have to find a way to distract the monsters. I promised Aealynn that I wouldn't let her get hurt, and I intend to keep that promise no matter what. Besides, I can probably distract them long enough for my magicka to restore itself.

However, I need to get the plan into action as quickly as possible. The citizen's wooden cage is beginning to break, and I can't let them die. So, I pat Aeaylnn on the shoulder and tell her, "Count to twenty, then get the anomalies' attentions and lead them over to me.". The woman nods and I rush away, climbing onto the general goods store across from Ysolda's home. I crouch down and prepare my spell, the magic crackling in the palms of my hands. I look over my shoulder and see the Breton jumping up and down, screaming at the monsters to get their attentions. The anomalies all stop, looking in the same direction.

I see the woman run away as quickly as she can, still screaming so everyone knows where she's going. The anomalies begin running after her, all of them roaring in unison. Aealynn arrives at Ysolda's house, ripping off the top of a barrel and jumping inside. It doesn't fool the anomalies for a single second, but it provides a thin barrier to protect the Breton. However, none of the beasts reach her before I let loose my spell. The crackling lightning races through the air, hitting the anomaly closest to the barrel.

The creature roars and violently explodes, knocking the barrel over in the process. I hear the Breton scream curses at the top of her lungs, but at least the barrel slowly rolls away from the anomalies. It's only a little bit, but it at least adds _some_ distance from the creatures that are going to violently explode when they die. All of the anomalies stop and turn to me, the monsters growling in anger when they see who's killed their brethren. I haven't cut off the stream of lightning, so I just slightly move it over to hit the next anomaly in line. He explodes and dies, and this time I don't stop to give the anomalies time to react to my attack. I just begin going down the line, hitting all of them with my lighting spell. All of them scream and explode on contact, the ones near the back attempting to flee.

But my spell is far too fast, hitting them all as they try to go. When the last one explodes I stand up, looking around the entire city from my high vantage point. Not a single anomaly left, and the citizens are slowly emerging from their hiding places. I see the ones from the marketplace getting out of their wooden cage, once again free to walk the streets. I hop down off the building and go over to the place where the majority of the anomalies died, and suddenly feel how low my magicka is. It's a good thing the fighting is done. I _know_ I wouldn't have been able to kill another wave of those bastards. I begin digging around the ectoplasm, taking the soul gems and other loot from the creature's corpses.

I suddenly hear another curse, and hear the barrel outside of Ysolda's home begin banging on the ground. Fuck! I forgot about Aealynn. I shove my loot in my pockets, rush over to the woman's hiding spot, and take off the top of the barrel. The Breton falls out, and I can see from her facial expression she's less than happy about how my plan worked out. However, she seems slightly pleased when she sees all of the anomaly corpses. As she gets to her feet I ask, "Are you okay?". She nods, but I see that she's refusing to put weight on one of her feet. I sigh and repeat, "Are you truly okay? You won't get medical help if you say 'yes'.".

The Breton looks slightly put off, but admits, "My ankle hurts.". I nod and tell her, "It probably got sprained when the barrel fell over, or when you jumped in.". I feel my side throb as the adrenaline stops pumping through my veins. "Come on, we both have wounds that need tending to.". The Breton doesn't nod, but she doesn't say anything to indicate she's against my plan. So, I turn and begin walking up to The Temple of Kynareth. I hear the Breton's footsteps behind me, and know the woman is trailing after me.

Good. Her compliance means it'll be easier to get her wounds treated. The battle was fought mainly by Aealynn and me, so there aren't that many wounded. The only person who isn't a 'regular' patient is Ysolda, and I can easily see why. A large gash on her head needs attending to, but a monk gently grabs her shoulder and leads her to a private area of the temple. When we're spotted the head sister comes over to use, potions and healing items piled high in her arms. The Nord adjust her supplies and tells us, "Please, follow me. I'll tend to both of your wounds.". I follow the woman and Aealynn follows me, all three of us going to another private area of the temple. The Nord motions to a seat and says, "One of you sit down.". I nod and step aside, allowing the Breton to sit down and be attended to first.

As she's treated the Breton asks, "What exactly were those things?". I knew she would ask, and I've already planned what to tell her. "Before I became the leader at the College, a crazed man tried to use power that wasn't his. He awoke several ancient evils, and one of them was the anomalies you see. They're strange, aggressive wisp-like entities created by some unknown deity. They float at about head level and typically swarm in groups, they attack with a magical power at close range, dealing quite heavy frost and bite damage as well as exploding when killed; these explosions can potentially kill anyone who's careless, as although most enemies will stop targeting people when they're on the brink of death (due to the fact they see them as no real threat), these explosions are one of the many ways careless people can indirectly be hit by a killing blow.".

"When killed, Magic Anomalies drop one powerful soul gem. They also have a tendency to ignore the landscape, and when they die they can become stuck in the ground or on elevated areas.". The Breton nods in understanding, then questions, "Can you tell me more about your position in the College at a later date?". Her question takes me by surprise, but I nod and agree, "I'll gladly explain more about my role in the College whenever you want to hear it.". The healer pulls back, done treating Aealynn.

The Breton stands up and I sit down, showing the healer my side. The woman goes to work, touching my flesh and trying to find out what's wrong with me. Aealynn surprises me again by asking, "What do we do next?". I try to think of what to do next. I want to focus on the Breton's education, but I also want her to interact with people of other races. A sudden idea hits me. The Companions and I are on friendly terms, and they have people of multiple races in one area. All of them are kind enough and a few might actually be interested in learning about Aealynn. So, it seems like the perfect place for her to interact with other people. And, Kodlak has multiple ancient tomes.

We're close enough that I think he would let me borrow them, or at the very least let me read them with him in the room. Either way, it furthers Aealynn's education. So, I tell the Breton, "We're going across the temple and up a small hill to the upturned boat building. I have some friends up there, and I'm sure they'll be happy to meet you. Not to mention, they have some rare books that I think you'll be interested in.". The Breton nods and the healer pulls back. The Nord pats me on the shoulder and tells me, "Good as new.". I stand and tell Aealynn, "Come on, let's go.". We both turn and leave, heading up to Jorrvaskr. Heading up to Aealynn's education.


	12. Companions

**Aealynn POV:**

The Khajiit holds the door open for me and I cautiously go inside, taking in the surroundings. The main hall is perfect for 'The Companions' to meet for meals, the place is gigantic. And, the atmosphere is fine for relaxing between training and missions. It consists of one large 'horseshoe' shaped table around a fire; but there are only nine chairs, which I can already tell is less than the total number of Companions. On both the east and west sides of the hall, there are two sets of double doors, above which can be seen four shields. The shields are painted with symbols that once had some ancient meaning, but the paint faded long ago. On the south side of the hall is the main weapon display area, every sword and ax gleaming in the dim torchlight.

The fragments of some tremendous war ax, several of which are missing (I'm assuming), are placed in the middle of the wall, above which are two more shields which are inaccessible for some reason. On the pillars of the stairs are four weapon plaques, three with greatswords and the other with a warhammer, none of which can be taken due to some weird chains tied to them. To the side walls are two weapon racks, one on either side, and these weapons are free of protective chains. On an end table facing the fire is the skill book that seems important to 'The Companions' for some reason.

I'm assuming all of these items are free to take. Well, would be if these people knew me and liked me to some extent. On the north side of the hall is a separate bedroom where I'm assuming the maids and servants of the place sleep and live. Even from here I can see there are two dusty and old beds in here, as well as some sparkling potions, two silver ingots, and a mammoth tusk. Nothing in that room would be free to take at any time, it's all far too expensive. The place is abandoned and the Khajiit goes 'hm' before explaining, "They must be in their living quarters. Please, follow me. They're probably having a meeting of some sort.".

As we walk I ask, "Aren't they Nords?". She kind of nods and shakes her head at the same time. "A good portion of them are Nords, but they have more diversity than that. Two elders I can't place the race of, one Dunmer, and an Imperial. Okay, not that much diversity, but it's something. That's more than I can say for some groups.". I nearly scoff. A large portion of them are Nords, so it's unlikely they're having any 'meeting'. They're probably gathered around some table drinking, swearing, and eating some animal they've killed. Disgusting savages, all they want to do is fight. I keep my thoughts to myself, I have a feeling the Khajiit wouldn't appreciate my input on her Nord 'friends'.

When we enter the living quarters she looks around and mumbles, "They must be out back, the last place I'd look.". She motions at the place and tells me, "Feel free to explore, I'll go get a few of them.". This area is definitely where most Companions sleep, and it mainly consists of beds. To the southwest is clearly where the lower-ranking Companions, servants, help, and anyone else sleep; there are eight beds I'm assuming anyone can use, but I wouldn't bet on it. To the west are a few bedrooms, although I have no idea who they would belong to. The best I can guess is one belongs to a drinker, and one to an archer. The archer's is on the south, and has one bed I'm certain I can't use, a extremely well-locked display case with an elven bow, and a book entitled 'The Marksmanship Lesson' safely inside.

On the bookshelves are four ice wraith teeth, and there are some pelts on the table. To the north is the drinker's bedroom, which has one bed I'm also certain I can't use and another well-locked display case with a steel dagger locked inside. There is a batch of fire salts on the shelves by the bed and three silver ingots on the shelves by the door. To the east is a warrior's bedroom. The warrior's bedroom has a third bed I can't use. The amount of beds I can't use is getting ridiculous, but I ignore that fact and keep looking around the room.

There is the unusually titled book 'Lycanthropic Legends of Skyrim' and one sample of ice wraith teeth on the shelves by the bed, nine chaurus eggs on the end table by the door, and some sparkling and shimmering potions on the stand on the other side of the door. I go across the room to the bar. Pfft, Nords and drinking. The bar contains a fourth bed I can't sleep in that's used by whoever lives with the warrior, a lute, and unsurprisingly, a large amount of mead. Damned Nords. I go back to the archer's room. The items in the archer's bedroom are extremely valuable and rare, and if I was the archer I'd only give them to someone through marriage; the items in the warrior's and drinker's bedrooms, and around the bar, are incredibly rare and I have a feeling they're never free to take.

The items in the hall and the communal bedroom are somewhat valuable, but I still don't think they're just for everyone to take. I find the bedroom at the end of the hall, and instinctively know the leader sleeps here. The leader's quarters consists of a bedroom and a study. The study contains four display cases, three of which are locked by thick and ancient looking locks; the other is located atop a set of shelves, and is not locked. The three locked cases display a dagger, a warhammer, and a greatsword (all elven in quality). The unlocked display case is empty, so there's nothing I can take.

The table in the study has a large map knifed to it, and I quickly examine it. On the map table is a giant's toe and the book 'Song Of Hrormir'; on the end table beside that table is a daedra heart. The bedroom contains of a fifth bed not for my use and an unusual gem that glitters in the light. Everything here, including the bed, is obviously only for the use of the leader of 'The Companions'. And, _only_ the leader of The Companions. I'm done exploring the place. It bores me to no end, but now I know the entire place. I know where to get weapons, where everyone sleeps, and how to escape this accursed place. The Khajiit might have left me simply to get me out of her hair, but now she's given me a major advantage.

I can use my new knowledge to my advantage if I ever need to. I'm not sure how or in what circumstances I would need to, but now I can. I'm walking back to the main part of the building when the Khajiit returns, three people trailing after her. A female Imperial, male Dunmer, and a female Nord with flaming hair. The Imperial smiles when she sees me, the Dunmer offers a small nod, and the Nord sizes me up for battle. The Khajiit greets me, then stands to the side and points at the Imperial. "Ria.". She moves onto the Dunmer. "Athis.". She points at the Nord woman and finishes, "Aela the Huntress. Call her Aela.".

I nod to greet all of them, but all three have different reactions. The Imperial's grin widens more and she offers me her hand as she says, "So nice to meet you! Any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!". I cautiously raise my hand to brush her off, but the woman grabs it and begins shaking it as she asks, "Did that sentence make sense?". The Nord pipes up, "Not exactly. You should have said the Khajiit's name instead of saying 'my friend'.". The Imperial chuckles and tells the Nord, "Shut up you. You knew very well what I meant.". The Nord woman rolls her eyes, but I can see the slightest bit of fondness for the Imperial in their depths. The Imperial hasn't stopped shaking my hand, nearly ripping my arm out of its socket as she continues, "It's so nice to meet you!".

The Dunmer practically growls, "You already said that!". The Imperial pays him no mind. "We've already been informed on what happened, and I want you to know what an honor it is to meet you!". I feel my face slide into a grimace as her shaking continues. I look over and the Nord has her eyes trained on me. She silently chuckles under her breath and speaks, "Ria, you're going to break the poor woman's arm if you keep shaking. Just let her go, we need to greet the poor woman to.". The Imperial offers me one last smile, apologizes, and releases my hand.

The Nord steps forward next, sizes me up again, then says her welcome. "I've been told you're a warrior. And, you've proven it by killing the anomalies that plagued our fair city. It takes a real fighter to step out into that mess and kill that many monsters.". I shuffle my feet and mumble, "I was just the bait.". The woman must have heard me because she laughs and says, "That's an even harder job. Killing things is one thing, but leading things that could kill you somewhere else is harder. Besides, you've proven yourself a warrior all the same.". She nods her head in approval and continues, "Any warrior is welcome to Jorrvaskr, and it's a pleasure to meet the woman who freed our city of those anomalies.".

She smirks. "Take my compliment with relish, for it's the first one I've ever given.". The Dunmer scoffs and says, "That's an understatement.". The Nord nods and steps back. The elf doesn't step forward to welcome me. Instead, he begins trying to clean out his pointed ear with his little finger. The Khajiit sighs and says, "Athis.". The man goes 'hm' and looks up as if he's just now noticed what's going on. The Khajiit motions to me and explains, "You haven't greeted our newest guest.". He nods and goes back to doing what he was doing. The Khajiit sighs and says, "Please-". The Dunmer snarls, "You're _not_ the boss of me!".

The Nord practically hisses, "But I am! Now, greet the woman!". The Dunmer sighs and steps forward, his beady red eyes burning holes into me as he says, "Don't touch my stuff.". Three voices growl, "ATHIS!". The man sighs and mumbles, "Welcome to our home.". As an afterthought he adds, "Freeloader.". When he steps back the Khajiit groans and tells me, "That's the best we'll get out of him. Please, don't judge all Dunmer based on him. He's just normally an asshole to new people. Or old people. Or anything that breathes.". The Imperial chuckles and adds, "Or once breathed.". Aela smirks and finishes, "Or anything that isn't him.". Athis huffs and puffs himself up, the man looking offended.

The Khajiit interrupts all of them by telling me, "These people are the best The Companions have to offer, and they were all willing to teach you. I think you'll like what they try to teach you.". All three of them puff up at the compliment and Aela tells me, "I'll teach you archery, if you like. We've improved bows and arrows since you were around, and the technique changed.". Ria smiles at me and says, "I'll teach you about Nords.". I raise an eyebrow and mumble, "You're an Imperial.". She nods and Athis clears his throat. "I don't exactly know what I'm suppose to do. I guess I'll help you with swords.".

The Khajiit smiles and asks, "What do you think?". I see no choice but to nod, my decision clear. The Khajiit's grin widens and she says, "Okay, let's go.". I cock my head and ask, "Go?". She nods and explains, "You can train whenever you want, and I won't oversee it. But right now we have a celebration in your honor to go to.". I freeze up. "In my honor?". Aela steps forward. "Of course. The Companions love to celebrate. Trust me, you'll love it.". Her eyes sparkle and she chuckles before saying, "But we won't give you a proper Nord romp. I'm afraid we stopped that an era ago. However, we'll give you the best party we can.". Before I know it I'm being ushered up the stairs, and the gods only know what horrors await me.

* * *

><p><strong>Quick Note: <strong>**Atraxotax and I were having a friendly discussion about what would happen if the Dovahkiin was to die, and we'd enjoy some other opinions on the discussion. In Atraxotax's own words, '****Supposedly, the Dragonborn does EVERY single quest in the game Skyrim. Similar to how every Assassin from every Assassins' Creed game supposedly completes every single side objective and quest in the game as "canon".'. And, 'So… what would happen upon his death? Would the Daedric Princes fight each other for the right of claiming the Dragonborns' soul to their Planes' of Oblivion? Would the heroes of Sovngarde come forth and, in turn, fight to have the Dragonborn live in Sovngarde? Would Akatosh, father to all Dragons, use his Divine powers to spare the Dovahkiin of BOTH of those fates?'. I myself will share my opinion on the matter in the next chapter or two if the circumstances are right. Until then, feel free to tell me your own opinions and what you believe would happen through PM, review, or any other source.**


	13. Jorrvaskr

**Dovahkiin POV:**

I've never attended a Nord celebration, and this one is just as surprising to me as it is to Aealynn. Aela vaguely mentioned a welcoming party, but she assured me it would be weeks from now. I should have known better than to take the huntress's words at face value, the woman loves vaguely answering things so she has an 'upper hand' in the situation. And, Aela loves making people squirm. It's just as much a part of her as her red hair, and I should have seen right through her the second she mumbled 'party'. But all I can do now is pray that the celebration doesn't involve too much alcohol, sex, or eating animals raw. I'm not too worried about the alcohol (Kodlak made everyone cut back after Torvar pissed off the roof of The Banndered Mare), and the sex shouldn't be a problem.

All of The Companions tend to keep their bedroom activities where they belong. The only incident was when Skjor walked into the wrong room with a whore, and that was promptly dealt with when Aela tossed them both out. Eating raw animals shouldn't be a problem unless one of The Companions completely goes off their rocker, and I don't see that happening. However, I can never be too careful. I grab Aela and whisper my concerns in her ear as we all walk. The Nord quietly laughs and says, "Yes, all of those will be present. Then, we're going to sacrifice a small child to the daedra.".

I sigh, "Sarcasm is unappreciated.". Aela straightens herself up and corrects, "But necessary.". All five of us fall silent as we return to the main area of Jorrvaskr, the celebration already prepared to start. Bards are ready to play, a gigantic buffet is set out, and an entire table is dedicated to drinks. I see the Jarl has decided to attend, and his Dunmer lackey is constantly scanning the area. A few Imperial soldiers are here, but not enough that it'll intimidate the rest of the crowd. I even see a few whores in the corner of the room, but the night is too young for them to begin prowling for customers. All of The Companions are gathered, but they're all doing different things.

Kodlak is quietly talking with Vilkas and Farkas, and all three of them seem to be enjoying the conversation they're having. Probably talking about hunting or sparring. Either way, it's good to see them enjoying themselves. They work hard, and deserve to have a break once in a while. Skjor is instructing the bards on what to play, but as I watch he dismisses himself and walks over to the whores. Seems they won't have to do much stalking to get customers. Ah well, as long as he doesn't catch a disease. Njada is sitting down and sulking, but her actions give her away. Her hand occasionally strikes out, grabs a sweetroll, and brings it up to her mouth to devour.

She's having a good time, even if she doesn't want to admit it. Torvar is sitting by the drinks with his head on the table, wishfully looking at the alcohol his leader has forbidden him to have. Vignar Gray-Mane is also there, but he's just sitting in a corner and chewing on some tobacco. I'm certain he'll come to like the celebration. Eventually. Eorlund is sitting by by his brother and likewise chewing some tobacco, and his wife is on his arm. Actually, it looks like the whole Gray-Mane family is here. That would be fine if the Battle-Born family wasn't across the room. I can only pray that the families don't get into a fight and ruin the occasion, but the gods have been known to take little interest in the mortal's workings.

The servants of Jorrvaskr have some downtime, and are using it to enjoy themselves. Brill is sitting down and reading a book. Not everyone's idea of a celebration or fun time, but if it makes her happy it makes her happy. I shouldn't judge. Tilma is the exact opposite. She's taking advantage of not having to work by working. The woman will be ahead of her work tomorrow, and she'll probably use that time to relax. Or she'll work and attempt to get even further ahead in her work, thus trapping herself in an endless cycle of promising herself downtime that she'll never get because she always wants to get ahead.

My musings are cut off by Aela screeching and rushing Vilkas. The woman heaves the man up and spins him around, Vilkas screaming and flailing in his attempts to flee. Aela tosses him to the side and repeats the process with Farkas. Ria chuckles and jogs over to Vilkas, taking his hands and slowly leading him into a dance. The man is slow to get the steps down, but eventually manages it. Farkas attempts to get Aela to dance with him, but the woman scurries away. Farkas shrugs it off and taps Brill on the shoulder. The elderly maid puts her book to the side and looks up. The Companion offers her a sweet smile, his tremendous bearded face making him look like one of his parents was a bear.

Brill stands and takes his hands, her arthritic appendages curling in on themselves. Vilkas and Ria are doing a fast-paced jig, but Farkas knows Brill's limitations. He goes extremely slow and makes his movements gentle, resting his hands where he knows he won't hurt the elderly maid. I watch the scene with a warming heart. However, my eyes are drawn to Aela and Njada. The older woman coaxed the grump to dance, and poor Njada is barely able to hang on. Aela is basically throwing the woman around and kicking out her legs, chuckling and singing a drunken song at the top of her lungs. Njada is cursing Aela, but I can see the smiles on their faces.

The bards suddenly begin singing.

"Alduin's wings, they did darken the sky. His roar fury's fire, and his scales sharpened scythes. Men ran and they cowered, and they fought and they died. They burned and they bled as they issued their cries. We need saviors to free us from Alduin's rage. Heroes on the field of this new war to wage. And if Alduin wins, man is gone from this world. Lost in the shadow of the black wings unfurled. But then came the Tongues on that terrible day. Steadfast as winter, they entered the fray. And all heard the music of Alduin's doom. The sweet song of Skyrim, sky-shattering Thu'um. And so the Tongues freed us from Alduin's rage. Gave the gift of the Voice, ushered in a new Age. If Alduin is eternal, then eternity's done. For his story is over and the dragons are... gone.".

Everyone claps and continues dancing, but I see Brill sit back down. Farkas wanders around and asks a few people if they want to dance. Eventually he gets Kodlak to agree, and the two start to dance. However, they can't seem to quite decide on who's going to lead. But it only takes them a second to work it out. Farkas is a warrior, but in situations like this he's the first to bend. Kodlak smiles and chuckles as the warrior bigger than him takes the partner's role, following Kodlak in the dance. I feel someone's presence beside me, and look over to realize Aealynn isn't joining the fun.

I gentle nudge her and ask, "Are you not having fun?". She shrugs and I question, "Would you like to dance with one of them?". She scoffs and mumbles, "They're Nords.". I nod and assure her, "They're fine dance partners. How about Farkas? I'm certain he'll let you lead, and he's like a giant puppy.". She eyes him before responding, "He's carrying a giant greatsword.". I agree, "You're right, but he only hurts things that need hurting. Besides, I've seen him raise animals. They all end up begin sweethearts and gentle, just like him. Trust me, he won't bite.". I see Ria and offer, "Or Ria. I don't think I've even seen her raise her sword. She's the kindest person I've ever met, and she's a good dancer. I _know_ you'd have fun with her.".

I expect Aealynn to blatantly refuse my request, but instead she says, "I'll dance with one of them, but only if you dance with the other.". I nod and tell her, "Take your pick.". The Breton slowly walks up to Farkas, the man offering another kind smile when he sees the new person. Aealynn seems reluctant to take his hands, but eventually she does. My suspicion about Farkas ends up being completely true. My Breton companion makes it clear she wants to lead the dance, and the man bends like a wet sapling in a strong northern wind. I intend to keep my end of the bargain, and go to find Ria.

The Imperial is grinning when she sees me, and when I ask her to dance her smirk only widens. She takes my hands and begins dancing, and I easily give the lead up for her. The bards pick up on the song. "We drink to our youth, to days come and gone. For the age of aggression is just about done. We'll drive out the Stormcloaks and restore what we own. With our blood and our steel we'll take back our home. Down with Ulfric the killer of kings. On the day of your death we'll drink and we'll sing. We're the children of Skyrim, and we fight all our lives. And when Sovngarde beckons, every one of us dies! But this land is ours and we'll see it wiped clean. Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams.".

I see the Battle-Born family is happy with this song, but the Gray-Manes are getting upset extremely quickly. I need to repair this before something goes wrong. I dance with Ria over to the bards and whisper a request. They nod and begin playing again. "We drink to our youth, and to days come and gone. For the age of oppression is now nearly done. We'll drive out the Empire from this land that we own. With our blood and our steel we will take back our home. All hail to Ulfric! You are the High King! In your great honor we drink and we sing. We're the children of Skyrim, and we fight all our lives. And when Sovngarde beckons, every one of us dies! But this land is ours and we'll see it wiped clean. Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams.".

Both of the families seem less than happy, but at least they aren't starting anything. I go back to dancing with Ria and try to enjoy myself as the celebration continues. Aela and Kodlak begin dancing, but by now Aela is exhausted and her movements are sloppy. When she steps on Kodlak's foot the dance is over, but Kodlak quickly begins again with Vilkas. Skjor disappears with a whore, Njada and Athis begin playing 'throw the ax at the wall', and Brill finally stops reading and begins nibbling on a sweetroll.

Everyone seems happy, and Ria ends up begin a good dance partner. A little unaware of my position (I bump into a table once or twice), but not a bad partner overall. But our dance is cut short when I see Aealynn slipping out the door of Jorrvaskr that leads to the training area. I sigh and excuse myself, already following the Breton. It looks like tonight might be a little longer than I thought. Gods help me.


	14. Ria

I find the woman leaning against stone that makes up what The Skyforge rests on, the moonlight illuminating her back. A cold gust of northern wind blows by us, and the Breton shivers. My fur protects me, so I'm immune to this weather. I almost chuckle at a thought. Even the weather is different from the time the woman was around. She's been thrown into a world completely different than the one she grew up in. For a brief moment I try to put myself in her shoes. A world where The Empire and The Stormcloaks have been gone for years, where every race acts different than I would expect, and where someone I can't trust is trying to teach me about the world.

A thought of Elenwen trying to teach me about her homeland flickers through my mind, and I hold back a laugh. I'd _never_ trust that woman, and I'd take everything she says with a large grain of salt. I suppose the Breton is better than me then. She's shown a decent amount of trust considering the situation, and she's been acting kind enough and with enough dignity. Even now she's showing her maturity. Aealynn knows the way out of Whiterun, and yet here she stands. To her knowledge I'm still inside, drinking and oblivious to her disappearance. She has the opportunity to run away and return to her homeland. It's not like we could catch her. She could be gone and we'd never see her again. Not even The Companions could find a Breton in her homeland.

But the woman doesn't run away into the night. Instead, she just stands there. I carefully get onto the tips of my feet and begin walking towards her. A heavy tread would startle the Breton and send her into combat mode, and I don't want that. But a lighter tread will slowly make her aware of my presence, and she won't flip around and rip out my throat. As I move towards her I make sure to distribute my weight equally, and bend my knees slightly. It's a stance similar to sneaking, but not as well. I'm _just_ about to begin allowing her to hear me when the woman shocks me. Three words leave her lips as she hugs herself and leans against the stone beside her, the woman's head tilted up so she's looking at the waning moon.

"I've been thinking.". Clever girl. She allowed me to wrap myself in the misconception of stealth, and promptly fooled me into believing I was an unseen phantom. The Breton knew I was there the second I arrived, but didn't say a single word. If I was an enemy she would have allowed me to stay the fool, then flipped around and snapped my neck at the last second. But we aren't enemies getting ready to kill one another. I allow my feet to return to normal as Aealynn continues, "I've been thinking about a lot of things recently.". I consider saying 'that's never good' to her, but I know we aren't good enough friends for that. The Breton would probably take it as an insult, and that would spark resentment between us.

So, I simply allow her to gather her thoughts. When she's ready to speak she says, "The Nords here are different.". Another short length of silence. "The one short woman fit perfectly into what I thought a Nord would be, but the others were completely different. They were friendly, didn't drink to excess, and didn't do anything brutish or savage. And, that one Imperial was completely different to. She was honest, kind, and went out of her way to be friendly to everyone in the room.". When another pregnant silence begins to swell I assure her, "That's Ria. But there are plenty of bad Imperials to. And Khajiits. And Altmer. No matter what race there is, there's always going to be bad people.".

"Judging the majority by the actions of a few isn't going to give you an accurate representation of the entire race. Oblivion, I don't even think it's possible to get a good grasp of an entire race! The only real thing you can say for certain is what their natural skills are. Like Khajiit can see in the dark and Argonians can breathe underwater. But that's about it. It's necessary to treat every person as an individual and not as a race because that's what they are.". Aealynn shifts her position as she sighs. "I can understand your opinion.". A cord in my very being seems to shake. Understand. Not agree or respect or enjoy. Understand. Barely better than hating something is some respects.

Oh well, it's _something_. Even the slightest progress is good. Besides, I couldn't have expected her to just suddenly shed her prejudice and beliefs like a serpent sheds its skin. Besides, it takes a big woman to admit when she's wrong. Well, admit that she _might_ have been wrong. As I've said before, something is better than nothing at all. Another gust of wind hits us and I suggest, "We should get back inside. You're missing the party that's being thrown in your honor.". The Breton nods and walks back to Jorrvaskr with me, allowing me to hold the door open for her as she enters the building. Athis and Njada have started throwing the ax back and forth, but the game stops as a gash opens in Njada's hand.

The woman howls in pain and chases the Dunmer down the stairs. A collective groan goes out throughout the room, but nobody bothers following them. At least the room is a little less crowded, and the two most hostile people are gone from the room. Now Aealynn might be a little more at ease. Aela's energy seems to have failed her, and for once she's sitting down. She's panting like a dog, but at least she's sitting down now. Ria and Kodlak are still dancing, but it's at a slowed pace that suits them both. Vilkas and Farkas are 'dancing' together, but they've somehow turned this into one of their competitions. Like they always manage to.

The two are pounding the ground in their attempts to prove themselves better than one another. I chuckle a little and assure Aealynn, "They'll be fine. Just go and focus on enjoying yourself.". The Breton nods and walks away, but Ria leaves Kodlak and intercepts her. The Companion hands my traveling fellow some bread and milk, offering her a seat at the table. Aealynn looks skeptical, but nods and follows Ria. Well I'll be damned. She's going to talk with Ria. That's something _huge_ to do! A sense of happiness and pride overcomes me, but it's shadowed by a feeling of dread. I'm highly interested in what they're going to talk about, and how they're going to interact with one another.

I need a way to listen in on them without getting caught. I see a bard strumming a lute and take my chance. I kindly ask for his instrument, thank the gods when he gives it to me, and begin playing. I slowly walk around the room, trying not to stick out in the crowd. I manage to blend in, and get near enough I can hear them. "What does it mean to be a Companion?". Ria practically beams. I can't say I blame the Imperial for puffing herself up at the Breton's question. Ria is one of the newer members of The Companions. A whelp. It's hard for her to see herself as a true member, and I'm certain being called one of them is the greatest compliment in her eyes.

"So much. This group... this family... this band... this is the best thing I've ever been a part of. The oldest fighting group in Skyrim, and nothing but glory from Ysgramor's day to our own. To be counted in that line is a bit of immortality. Even if I never see Sovngarde, I'll have that much.". Before Ria can ask anything about Aealynn, the woman cuts her off by asking, "So, who's in charge around here?". The Imperial looks taken aback at how the conversation is going so far, but stays on track and continues the conversation. "The Circle are the ones who parcel out the jobs. That's Aela, Skjor, and the brothers, Farkas and Vilkas. Kodlak advises them, but he doesn't really give orders.".

To wrap up the conversation Aealynn questions, "Why would you want to join these people?". Ria looks modest as she says, "I've wanted to be with them since I was a little girl. Haven't you heard the stories of Kodlak and Skjor fighting off the hundred-and-one Orc berserkers? Skjor says it was more like forty, but he's just being modest. Where else would I want to be but here? Learning with them, fighting at their sides.". The two slowly begin to talk about nothing, letting the topic wander from one thing to another. A gigantic sense of pride threatens to clog my throat. Aealynn is having a normal conversation with someone of a different race. Considering she was a frozen gargoyle a few weeks ago, this is a major thing for her!

I smile and stay around them as I gently play the instrument and sing with the bards, making some background music for the conversation. "Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart. I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes. With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art. Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes. It's an end to the evil, of all Skyrim's foes. Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes. For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows. You'll know, You'll know the Dragonborn's come.". One day I might be able to explain to Aealynn what that song means, but not today. She's learned so much, and she's already taken a step into becoming someone who can fully enjoy life in Skyrim.

You can only do so many things in one day without frying the brain, and Aealynn is at her limit. Besides, the Breton has done so much. I can't even imagine being in her position. I hear her still talking to Ria, the two seeming to have a friendly and normal conversation with one another. More pride swells up in my chest and I begin singing again, but this time it's just nonsense that doesn't make sense in the slightest. White noise that blends into the background, so the two can still enjoy their conversation. As the evening goes on I continue to play background noise, the Imperial and Breton's conversation stretching on into the night.

* * *

><p><strong>Note: None of my stories are ending any time soon, but I'd like a little advice on something. When I'm down to a single story I'll obviously write another one, but I want to go something different this time. I want to go beyond Skyrim (although I'll always have one story set in Skyrim at any given time). I'm going to open some polls eventually that'll be open for weeks, but right now I just want reviews and PMs for a few ideas. If you want to, then just tell me what you think I should do. It can be something within TES, something beyond that, or you could even tell me to stay within Skyrim. It's pretty obvious I'm going to choose something I'm familiar with, but it could be anything. That's it.<strong>


	15. A Debt Owed

I'm still singing when a courier comes in, desperately looking around the room. I instinctively know he's come for me, and put my instrument down _just_ in time before he reaches me. The man shoves a letter in my hand, salutes, and rushes away. I quietly go sit down and open the note. _Friend, you must come quickly. The Shatter-Shields are giving us more trouble than you ever could have imagined. I know you've dealt with them in the past, and I'm begging you to do so again. Those thick-headed Nords won't even listen to us. Please, you have to help us. I can't offer you gold, but I can give you anything else in return. ANYTHING. -Scouts-Many-Marshes. _

I fold the letter back up and put it in my pocket. Scouts-Many-Marshes is a friend of mine, and this isn't the first time the Shatter-Shields have given him trouble. I'd love to go help him with his problem, but I have a problem. Aealynn. I'm not sure if she would be willing to come. And, even then I'll still have to be extremely careful. I can't let the woman have a chance to escape from me. She didn't run away outside, but something could always set her off and change her mind. Besides, the Breton probably wouldn't enjoy going to Windhelm. Too many prejudice Nords who hate anyone that isn't like them. Actually, that might be _exactly_ what she needs!

She can see that Nords are different no matter where you go, and it'll reinforce my 'don't judge the group by the minority' thing. Besides, I can show her the few good Nords in the city to really drive it home. Another thought crosses my mind. She'll finally get to interact with Argonians, and see that they're not like the stereotypes I'm certain she's been taught. I quickly go over to Aealynn. Ria sees me coming and wraps up whatever conversation they're having, then promptly excuses herself to go get a bite to eat. The Breton allows her to go and looks around the room, but by then I've reached her. I slide into Ria's vacated seat, initiating the conversation with Aealynn.

"Would you like to go to Windhelm? It use to be the seat of the king of Skyrim, but now it's not. Well, sort of. It's complicated, but I'll explain on the way if you wish. That is, if you care to go?". The woman bites her lips and gets a far-off look in her eyes, and I take that to mean she's thinking. I'm apparently right because the woman answers after a few seconds of silence. "I think it might be important to see other parts of Skyrim, and the Nords don't seem _too_ bad. I'll go with you, but no stories. I need a nap. When do we leave?". I think for a moment, then answer her. I also throw in a small warning about the Windhelm Nords, just so the woman is a little prepared for what awaits her in the city.

"The Nords in Windhelm aren't exactly like the ones here. They're almost exactly the stereotypes you'd expect, but there are a few good ones. Besides, you can see the Dunmer citizens. They aren't exactly _happy_ living there or the most _friendly_, but I know of two brothers who welcome everyone and anyone into their store. I also feel the need to tell you we're going there to assist a dear companion of mine, and his predicament might take a little while to sort out. Hopefully we'll be free within a week or two, but there's honestly no telling how long it could take. Now, I don't know when we'll leave. I feel the need to leave as soon as possible, but I don't want to rush you. When would you like to go?".

Aealynn seems a little surprised I'm asking her opinion, but doesn't mind sharing it. "I wouldn't mind leaving the party as soon as it's over.". I nod and look around, but the place is almost dead. In fact, it looks like the bards are winding up for their last song of the evening. I quietly hum under my breath with them. "There once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead! And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade, as he told of bold battles and gold he had made! But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shieldmaiden Matilda who said-".

"'Oh, you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead! Now I think it's high time that you lie down and bleed!' And so then came the clashing and slashing of steel, as the brave lass Matilda charged in full of zeal! And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no moooooree... when his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!". I stand and make my way over to Kodlak, the old man looking about ready to collapse out of exhaustion. "I'm afraid my friend and I must be leaving, we're heading to Windhelm.". The Nord begins tugging at his tangled beard as he asks, "Will those Stormcloak bastards let you into their city?". I chuckle a little and challenge, "Don't you support them?".

He scoffs, but mumbles, "I can't take a part it politics. That's for someone higher up and better than me to decide. Now, will you finally answer my question?". I nod and stop teasing the elderly Nord. "They _should_ let me in. I've done enough good in their hold that they don't try to stop me. They only reason they wouldn't is if the city was under siege, and we both know The Imperials aren't ready for that kind of attack.". Kodlak nods, pats me on the shoulder, and says, "Good luck, and know that the heart of every Companion go with you.". I nod and go back to Aealynn. "Let's go.". She nods and we both leave Jorrvaskr, heading to the carriage that'll take us to Windhelm.

* * *

><p>The snow crunches beneath our boots, the gray city around us seeming to huddle down beneath the forces of nature. My foot slides in mush and I nearly go down, but a small hand grabbing my arm stops me. I look over and see Aealynn looking at me with a completely blank and neutral expression, her hand still gripping my arm. I nod in thanks and straighten myself up, continuing my walk down to the Windhelm Docks. The sky above us opens up and the gods begin to piss on us. The freezing rain stings, but I've survived worse. However, Aealynn begins mumbling about the weather. Oh well, we'll be warm soon enough. I find Scouts-Many-Marshes tanning a wolf's hide into leather, his scaly tail slowly flicking back and forth.<p>

My Breton companion keeps her distance from the man, but I walk up to him without a second thought. When I tap him on the shoulder he turns around, his reptile lips peeling back in the Argonian equivalent of a smile. Aealynn tense up as the Argonian leaps up, his thick arms wrapping around me. Scouts-Many-Marshes lets out a warm breath right by my ear as he says, "My friend! It's been far too long for my liking! How are you?". I pull back, a small grin on my face, "Scouts-Many-Marshes, you-". He cuts me off, "Up up up up up! Scouts. Call me Scouts. We've been over this before.".

I sigh and remind him, "'Scouts' sounds weird.". My Argonian friend scoffs. "You're the one with the weird name!". I shake my head and remind him, "My name is _perfectly_ fine!". Scouts laughs before containing himself and countering, "You have a 'u' in it!". Aealynn is slowly coming closer as the conversation continues. "I do not have a 'u' in my name! Someone just spelled it wrong, and now everyone just assumes it's spelled like that.". Scouts rolls his eyes as the rain begins falling harder. The Argonian looks up at the sky and tells me, "Enough formalities, it's freezing out here and we're going to be soaked to the bones by the time we're done.".

"Come with me, I'll let you into the Assembly. My fellows won't be pleased in the slightest that I'm letting non-Argonians in, but they won't stop me.". I nod and allow the man to lead me and Aealynn to his home. My friend fishes a rusted key out of his pocket and unlocks his door to his makeshift home. Scouts stands off to the side and holds the door open for us, nodding at both of us in a kind of silent formality that every person who opens a door has to do. Once we're inside the door _clicks_ shut, and the _clink_ of a lock being turned tells me nobody else can get in. Well, unless they have a key. The empty place is blanketed in shadows, and the fire in the hearth is out.

Scouts walks over and quickly fixes the problem, then goes and gets all of us some blankets. My friend leads us over to the fire, pulling up three seats so we're right beside the flames. Aealynn and I take our seats, but my Argonian friend isn't done. He hands each of us a small meal and drink, then finally takes his place across from us. I nibble on a piece of bread as we all dry, but take time to ask my friend, "Now, what problem are you having with the Shatter-Shields?". Scouts sighs and flicks his tail a little. He motions around the empty room and says, "Look.". I look around, but I don't see anything off. I turn back to him and shrug, showing him I don't understand.

Scout's tail flicks again. "My fellows are _still_ working. It's a miracle I've gotten time off. He's running us for eighteen hours a day without a single break, and we're all working shifts at the same time. But even with all the hours, the pay is still shit! Also, he's making us pay to live in the assembly! He's _never_ done that before! He's not even paying for food, firewood, or clothes! Those were the agreed upon terms, and he's taking a piss on them! To top it all off he's forbidden us from doing business from anyone in Windhelm! He was his own 'company store' that he makes us use. The prices are outrageous, but we have to pay them!".

I realize how much this food must have taken out of his paycheck, and put the bread down. I can't eat his food without feeling guilty, but Aealynn doesn't have that problem. Scouts flicks his tail flicks again, "Actually, we don't. We're pouring all of our money into paying the rent and things we need to live, but it's still not enough. So, the Shatter-Shields came up with a system that benefits them and fucks us over.". Aealynn is listening intently with me as Scouts-Many-Marshes continues. "It's called 'credit'. Apparently some banks over in Hammerfell use it on occasions. If we can't pay for something, then we can use our 'credit' to buy it.".

He picks up a piece of bread, "Let's say we've used up all our money on things we need, but we also need this piece of bread. Like, we need it or we'll die. We don't have the money, but the Shatter-Shields have a solution. We use 'credit' to buy it. If the bread is worth five gold, then we now used ten golds worth of 'credit' to buy it. If we don't pay it off by next month, then the 'credit' we owe goes up to twenty. We only get paid once a month, so it's guaranteed we'll owe him money. And, we have to add on the 'credit' we need to use this month. The credit we owe just keeps piling up, and we can't do anything about it. The Shatter-Shields have effectively gotten themselves workers who are forced to work for free, and workers that can't run because of owed 'credit'.".

My friend puts his head in his hands and whimpers, "What am I going to do?". I reach over and pat his shoulder. "We'll find a way. We always do.". We all fall silent as the fire crackles beside us. I'm not sure how, but I'm going to help my friend out of this. Hopefully.


	16. The Dunmer

I follow Scouts-Many-Marshes through Windhelm, but I've asked him to take a certain path. Through the slums the Dunmer are forced to live in. When we reach them my friend slows down and sheepishly tells us he needs to go relieve himself. While he's in the restroom I take the opportunity to ask Aealynn, "Want to learn some more?". I take her shrug as a 'yes' and tell her, "Follow me, and I'll tell you about this place.". The slums become clogged with sewage, melted snow, and garbage from the entire city. As we wade through the filth I tell her, "The Dunmer's homeland had to be evacuated when the Red Mountain exploded. Some were able to remain, but a large percent of their population had to run.".

"Skyrim is the closest place, and it's easy to get to. The Dunmer ran here and begged for help. Some cities were willing to assist them, but there was another problem. The Dunmer had families, and could only go so far. Most of them had to end up settling down in Windhelm, and the Jarl isn't particularly _fond_ of Dunmer. Or Argonians. Or Khajiits. Actually, he's not fond of anyone who isn't a Nord. Anyway, the Dunmer had two choices available to them. Settle in a city that hates them, or kill their family trying to get somewhere else. The choice was clear, and a tremendous number of elves settled down and made their lives in Windhelm.".

My foot sinks in the filth and I grunt as I rip it free, disgusting mush splattering my leggings. "The Jarl of this city segregated the Dunmer people, and told them they could only live here. These streets were originally abandoned, but he forced to elves to live here.". Aealynn carefully steps in the mush as she asks, "Forced? If they were fleeing they should feel honored to live here.". I inwardly sigh and counter, "There's plenty of room in the better parts of this city. The place is huge, and the Dunmer didn't have to live on these streets. The Jarl wanted to segregate them, pure and simple. There was no other reason. And, that's been the accepted fact for years.".

"The man even _stated_ he didn't like Dunmer. Now, may I continue the lesson?". Aealynn nearly slips in the mush, but rights herself and says, "Go on.". I nod before proceeding. "Melted snow, garbage from the city, and rain water all rush down these blocks. However, the Jarl had a new procedure put into place. Citizens usually had to dump their horses' shit outside the city walls and into the water, but now they could legally dump it down here. It's painfully clear which path the citizens of Windhelm took.". Aealynn nods in agreement. I open my mouth to give another lesson, but a hideous sight stops me. Three children are sitting in the filthy street playing with a ball.

There's nothing disturbing in that, but there is in what's lying beside them. A dead donkey is silently looking up at the sky as flies begin to feast on him. I hear a gagging noise from my side and nod in agreement. "Disgusting, isn't it?". Aealynn recovers and asks, "Why don't they move the animal? The children will get sick.". I shake my head as one of the children doubles over, hacking his lungs out. "It's too late. A child in the slums is ten times as likely to get sick and die than a child raised in the other parts of Windhelm. And, most of the children here are already riddled with disease. Now, why don't they clean up? The Jarl forbids it. There's a specialized team of guards meant to clean the city streets, but they never come down here.".

We walk past the children, one of them vomiting and adding to the mush as we go by. We also pass a man leaning against a wall, blood splattering his front. He suddenly yanks his arm up and shoves his mouth in his elbow, hacking and retching violently as his tunic is stained even redder. Once we're past him I tell her, "Disease spreads like rapid down here, and none are safe.". My lesson is stopped by three guards riding down the streets, their noses upturned at the streets below them. One of the men's horses whinnies and stops, raising his tail and adding to the street's filth.

While we walk past the steaming shit I tell Aealynn, "I would like to take you inside one of the slum's houses. Do you mind?". When she shakes her head I go over to one of the public buildings, holding the door open for the Breton. As she goes in I take a look down the street, checking to make sure Scouts-Many-Marshes hasn't returned. He hasn't, so it's safe to go in without losing him. When I'm inside the building I shut the door, the entire place covered in shadows. I find Aealynn waiting at the bottom of the staircase, nervously shuffling her feet. I take out and light a torch, throwing light onto the small area we're in. It's an extremely small room, barely big enough for two grown women to stand in.

However, there's a horribly small staircase that leads up to the other floors. I motion towards them and say, "Follow me.". I carefully make my way up to the second level. A even smaller floor, but this time there's a door into the home of some family. Aealynn manages to squeeze in beside me and I ask, "Ready?". She nods and I knock. A filthy child opens the door for us. She's nearly naked, and her swollen belly is on display. Aealynn might mistake it for fat, but I know the truth. Worms. The dirty child is clutching an every dirtier stuffed bunny. The child yawns and her shattered teeth are revealed, a tiny pink tongue covered in white gunk peaking from between her thin lips.

I kneel down to her level and say, "Hello, sweetie. Is your mommy or daddy home?". She shakes her head and I question, "Can we come in? We just want to look around.". The small child rubs an inflamed eye and nods, scuttling away into the darkness. I step inside and thrust my torch forward, illuminating the entire family's room. The room is roughly six feet long, and seven feet wide. A small bunk-bed is shoved in the back of the extremely tiny room, and the small child is sitting on it with her bunny. I hear Aealynn ask, "Where's the rest of the home?". I watch the child curl up and tell her, "There is none. This is what the Jarl gives to every Dunmer family. _Family_. Some of these people came with ten kids in tow, and this is what they were given to raise a family in. He's a disgusting man.".

Aealynn manages to squeeze in beside me, and we both watch the kid. I quietly explain, "She has worms, that's why her belly is swollen. And, her teeth have been rotted and broken in an attempt to save them. She's had too much sugar in her diet, and there's no way for her parents to pay to fix her teeth.". The Breton uncomfortably shifts beside me and questions, "Is there anything we can do to help her?". I shrug and pull out a small bag of gold. I walk up to the child and place the money by her, and as an afterthought I place a hastily scribbled note next to the money.

When we leave the room I ask, "Would you like to see another room? I'm sure there are some with more people living in them, and with less furniture.". Aealynn nearly balks, "All that room had was a bed!". I nod and explain, "Some of these people are lucky to have a chair or table.". The Breton shakes her head and whispers, "I've seen enough.". I nod in understanding and take her back outside. Back into the filth of the city. It's beginning to drizzle, and the water is turning the ground beneath us into liquid. I sigh and begin sloshing along, Aealynn trailing behind me. We pass a dead horse, a woman hacking up blood, a child trying to sell flowers, and a toddler huddled up in the snow.

I keep sloshing along out of habit, but I quickly realize Aealynn has stopped. I turn around and see the Breton standing beside the toddler. I splash back and ask, "What's wrong?". The woman looks up at me with a far-off look as she whispers, "He's not breathing.". I lean down and reach out to the child, feeling for a pulse. The faintest of beats. And, the smallest of breathes. Must have been enough to fool Aealynn. I stand and shake my head, picking up the almost cold body of the child. I take him to the nearest house and knock on the door. An elderly man greets me, and sighs in relief when he sees the child in my arms.

I hand the babe over and return to Aealynn. The Breton seems relieved and we continue on. "So, does that happen a lot? Dunmer children kneeling over and dying inches away from their home?". I nod and answer, "Children like playing, even nearly naked children who live in poverty. They go out to play, and things like that happen. The snow and slush cover up the child who's too weak to move, and the parents are lucky if the body is ever found. Dunmer parents have to be careful. If a Nord's kid goes missing the entire town is uprooted in the search for it, but nobody bats an eyelash if a elf's baby gets covered up in snow and horse shit.". We finally reach the end of the slums, and for once our feet aren't covered in a disgusting mush.

As I shake my feet clean my Breton companion questions, "Why don't the elves just rebel?". I know exactly why, and easily answer, "Fear. There are more Dunmer than Nords, but the Nords have made the law and city in the image they want. Dunmer can rarely have weapons, they aren't allowed to learn to fight, and their freedom of speech is extremely limited. Besides, what could they do? This isn't all of Skyrim, it's just one fucked up city. The elves are going to be forced to hang on, and just wait until some better ruler gets the throne. It might take years, but that's what they'll have to do. It sucks, but that's the way the world works.".

Our lesson is cut short by Scouts returning. He leads me through an ally and stops, the house of Clan Shatter-Shield right in front of us. The house is extremely lavish and decorated, so it's a good guess this man could afford to pay his workers better. The man points and says, "That's where he is.". I nod and ask Aealynn and Scouts, "Either of you want to come in with me?". Scouts shakes his head, but the Breton nods in agreement. Good. At least I'll have one person to back me up when I have to talk to the bullheaded Nord. I nod back and say, "Let's go.". We walk up to the front door and freeze. I gather my courage, and knock.

* * *

><p><strong>Note: For those vaguely interested (a few PMs), I indeed got inspiration for the last chapter (and this chapter) from history. Although it's specifically New York during the 1920s (the 'fuck the poor' period of US history).<strong>


	17. The Shatter-Shields

**Aealynn POV:**

An overweight, dirty, and drunken Nord answers the door. It looks like the Khajiit wasn't lying, the Nords here are exactly what I would have expected to see. I take a deep breath and remind myself of Aela, Vilkas, and Farkas. Savages wouldn't be gentle or friendly, and at one point I even saw Aela dance with a child. A mindless savage wouldn't do that. The man opens his mouth and belches in greeting, wiping his tangled beard with his sleeve. The Khajiit beside me stiffens up, but doesn't do anything rude. In fact, she takes a deep breath and says, "Torbjorn Shatter-Shield, what a pleasure to see you again!". I don't detect sarcasm in her voice.

For whatever reason, she seems at least _slightly_ happy this drunken horker is still kicking. The man's red eyes squint as he looks at the mage beside me. "Who in oblivion are you?". The woman seems a little taken off guard, but she doesn't let it stop her. However, her tone seems a little less friendly as she reminds him, "I'm the woman who helped your family when you were grieving for your daughter.". He remains silent. "I assisted you in finding a certain amulet you wanted.". Another pause in conversation. "I stopped your wife from taking her own life when she lost all hope, and got her the proper help she needed.". The man nods and goes, "Oh! It's you. Got a drink on you?".

The mage shakes her head and says, "I'm afraid not. Do you have a moment? I would like to speak to you about your Argonian workers.". The man laughs and growls, "Workers?! Workers?! Those damned lizards hardly do anything! They laze around all day and drink beer.". I hold in my remark of 'like you', and simply allow the Khajiit to try talking to the man. "Please, if you'll just give us a moment of your time-". He snarls, "GO AWAY!". A sudden feminine voice sounds, "Trobjorn? Who's there?". A woman appears beside the man, and her face seems to light up when she sees the Khajiit. She taps her husband's shoulder and says, "Come in! Come in! We haven't seen you in ages.".

As the two Nords disappear we enter the building, but we have the briefest moment to talk. "You're friends with these people?". She kind of nods, but she also shakes her head. "Yes, and no. I did a few favors for them a while ago, and they now consider me a family friend. I don't particularly agree with them, but they're kind enough to me.". The answer satisfies me, and I remain silent as we go up some stairs and meet the two people in front of a roaring fire. There are four chairs pulled up, two facing two. I sit down beside the Khajiit, the Nord couple facing us. The man looks upset and sullen at the turn of events, but the woman looks thrilled.

The female Nord clears her throat and asks, "What brings you here?". The Khajiit takes the opportunity to answer, "The Argonian worker your husband employs down at the docks.". The wife nods and responds, "Yes, he's been treating them very well ever since you talked to him about his behavior a few months ago. Isn't that right dear?". She looks at her husband, but the man is looking at the floor. The wife groans and looks back at the Khajiit. "They're all doing horrible, aren't they?". The mage nods and the wife turns on the husband like a wolf turning on a sheep. "Gods damn it! You promised me you'd be nice to those people!". Torbjorn turns and snarls back, "Tova! Those _beast_ aren't people!".

Tova stabs a finger at my Khajiit companion, "Is _she_ not a person?! She's a beast race, just like the Argonians you hired!". Torbjorn looks trapped as he tries to defend himself, "She's _different_! She's _smart_!". The Khajiit clears her throat and reminds him, "You didn't know how to count until you were a teenager. Scouts-Many-Marshes is able to count to a hundred, he's read full novels by complex authors, and he's even written a few journals about his experiences as an Argonian in Skyrim. He's just as smart as me in some aspects. And, all the other Argonians have the same level of intelligence as Scouts does.".

Trobjorn groans, "It's not the same! You've helped us, those workers are just too lazy to work for their keep!". The mage easily pokes a hole in his argument. "They're working as hard as they can, but they could work more if you give them some chances to rest. And, increasing their pay would give them more reason to work. And, less reason to quit.". The man huffs and once again tries to defend himself. "They don't work now. Why should I waste more money?". Tova reaches out and lightly slaps her husband's arm. "They work fine! I've seen them doing their jobs. They work harder than you do, and twice as long!". Her husband groans and flips away from her, now he's facing the fire and snarling, "I didn't ask any of you!".

The Khajiit beside me sighs and offers, "I know that paying them would cost you money, and I know how everyone hates to lose money. What if I invest in their future? Then, you wouldn't lose as much money if something went wrong or they didn't work hard.". Trobjorn stands firm and questions, "What future?". The wife steps back in, "Trobjorn!". He turns back and hisses back, "Tova!". The door downstairs bangs open and shut. Tova and Trobjorn groan, and within a few seconds another Nord is walking up the steps. She's significantly younger than the two, so it's safe to assume she's their daughter.

Tova waves the girl over and says, "Nilsine! Come here and tell your father how stupid he's being by not taking better care of the Argonians!". The young Nord sighs, but walks over to her mother. She leans down and wraps her arms around her mother's shoulder as she emptily repeats, "Dad you're acting stupid by not taking better care of the Argonians.". Trobjorn groans and roars, "I refuse to listen to any more of this slobber!". He stands and tipsily makes his way over to a dresser, pulling out some beer and downing it. Tova sighs and looks over to the Khajiit. "I promise I'll snap him out of this.". Trobjorn shouts to her, "No, you won't! I know what's best for my workers!".

Nilsine stands and mumbles, "I'll take care of this.". She turns and asks, "Dad, what's going on?". Trobjorn walks back over and sits back in his seat. "These two are trying to convince me that I need to pay my Argonians better.". The Khajiit corrects him, "And, give them breaks that they deserve. Not to mention better living conditions.". Trobjorn roars, but Nilsine quiets him by asking, "Why is that such a big deal? We have money.". The man huffs and snarls, "But those lazy Argonians want money that they didn't earn.". The Khajiit questions, "Why didn't they earn it? They're breaking their back to build your empire, and you aren't doing anything for them!".

Nilsine nods and agrees, "Those people work for us, and I've seen what they do at the dock. They deserve a decent wage. Now, what is this about breaks?". The Khajiit interrupts by saying, "I don't think we've even hit on the credit part. Did anyone hit the credit part? No? Okay, I will.". She begins explaining 'credit' to Tova and Nilsine. The two look absolutely enraged. Tova turns and demands, "Is _that_ where all of my flour and sugar has been going?!". Nilsine slaps her mother on the arm and snarls, "That's _horrible_! How could you do that to another living person?! That's. That's.". She's struggling to find the word, so the Khajiit steps in and finishes, "Legal slavery.".

Nilsine nods and repeats, "Legal slavery. That's legal slavery.". Something dawns on Tova and she backs up her daughter, "Why?! Why would you do this to the Argonians?!". Trobjorn weakly tries to defend himself by saying, "None of them have complained!". Nilsine walks over into a room, then comes back with papers in her hands. She drops the papers in the middle of all of us and motions to them. The Khajiit, wife, and I pick up some of the papers on the table. Complaints. Complaints after complaints after complaints. All of them are about normal things that every human being should have. Not enough food. The house is breaking down. One of them is sick.

The wife and daughter look up at the husband, and the man seems to realize he's in hot water. He pulls on his tangled beard and questions, "Where did all of this come from?". Nilsine sighs and asks, "Really?". Tova groans and demands, "Trobjorn!". He groans back and gives in. "Fine! I've been using credit to keep the Argonian workers from leaving! And, I've been making them work harder to make up for the lost quota!". Tova instantly attacks, "Quota?". He nods and explains, "We lost a ship a couple of weeks ago. An _important_ ship. It was loaded down with jewels and treasures. The captain wanted to take a long way around a particularly tough patch of icy water, but I demanded he take a shorter route.".

"He did, but things went about as well as everyone expected. The ship sank, and I didn't bother buying insurance beforehand. I tried getting a salvage team to recover the treasure, but it was no use. It took them weeks to get through the ice, and by then almost all the treasure was swept away. So, I had to pay for the salvage team, _and_ find a way to make up the lost profit from the ship.". The Khajiit takes a moment of silence to ask, "How many more weeks until you've made enough money from the Argonians to repay for the losses you've suffered?". Trobjorn swallows and mumbles, "Ten weeks ago.".

The entire room is silent, and it's the daughter who breaks the silence. "You've made up your money, and you're _still_ treating them like this?!". Tova puts her head in her hands and simply asks, "Why? Why would you do this?". Trobjorn sinks deeper in his seat, still trying to defend himself and the choices he's made. "Those Argonians never work!". His wife is instantly on him, "They work harder than you, and they don't complain as much as you! At least, they don't complain about stupid things!". When Tova takes a break the daughter steps in, taking the place of her mother. "You were treating these people so well! I thought you really made things better for them when you paid them more! Was all of that just a fling?! Just something to do so people wouldn't nag you about doing the right thing?!".

The man is slumped in his chair, sweating as the two attack him. The Khajiit clears her throat, drawing the attention of all three Nords to her. "So, are you going to stop treating the Argonians like dirt?". Trobjorn nods and relents, "Fine! Fine! I'm sorry, just stop this madness! Their debt is forgiven, they can go back to their normal work routine, and I'll pay them like normal!". The Khajiit nods, but the daughter and wife keeping attack. The Khajiit chuckles a little under her breath, then taps me on the arm. I look over and she's motioning to leave. I chuckle and stand up, both of us silently leaving the room. And, leaving Trobjorn to his fate.


	18. Shapeshifting

The Khajiit and I find Scouts-Many-Marshes back at The Argonian Assembly, a cup of beer in his hands. The mage taps the table he's looking at, and the Argonian's scaly head turns to look at her. He looks like a kicked puppy as he asks, "Did you manage to change our situation a little?". The Khajiit shakes her head. The Argonian's face falls into one of hopelessness, and for a moment I'm confused. Then, the woman splits into a grin and says, "I was able to change it a lot.". Scouts-Many-Marshes smiles and lets out a small chuckle, but quickly grows serious and questions, "How much were you able to change?".

The Khajiit's tail swishes as she explains, "You've got your normal hours back, your pay has been increased, and your debt has been forgiven. You also don't have to buy any more goods directly from the Shatter-Shield's crooked store.". The Argonian stands and unsteadily walks over to the Khajiit, and as he passes me I swear I see his eyes beginning to glaze over with tears of happiness. He hugs the Khajiit and begins profusely thanking her, and when he finally pulls back he offers her anything. The Khajiit assures him it was her pleasure, then excuses us both so we can leave. I follow her out the door, leaving the Argonian behind us. As we walk I ask, "Where are we going?". The Khajiit shrugs and we both fall silent, but neither of us stop walking.

* * *

><p>The Nightgate Inn is in horrible condition, but it's a temporary refuge from the storm that's brewing outside. The Khajiit goes over to the barkeeper as I sit down, looking around the place. The place is a huge taproom with a fireplace in the center and the counter at the opposite end of the room from the entrance. Three wooden tables are scattered around the place, all of them set with fattening foods and alcoholic drink. The inn also appears to have a smaller room, for the occasional traveler. To the left from where we entered, is the first table which is dressed with two loaves of bread and three bottles of drink. In the northeastern corner stands three barrels that I can smell from over here.<p>

Next to the barrels are another table with two loaves of bread and more alcoholic drinks. The next table houses a man who's nursing a drink, muttering under his breath. The table in front of him has three loaves of bread and even more drinks. Damn, that's all this place seems to have. Drinks and bread. I keep looking, taking in the surroundings. Next up is a set of shelves with two herbs and seven bottles of what appears to be alcohol. The bar takes up most of the northwestern part of the taproom and that's where the Khajiit and innkeeper continue to speak. On display is a wedge, a slice, and a wheel of the inn's finest cheese. I can see the mold from here.

A bottle of wine and a bottle of alto wine are also on display. A bunch of gold coins litter the bar around him, shining in the torchlight. A steel warhammer is hanging behind the man, three coin purses are beside him, twenty-two drinks are at the counter, and a copy of some book is the final addition to the bar. In the southern corner is a set of shelves that hold multiple bottles of wine, along with four loaves of bread. Next to the shelves are two more barrels that reek. Hanging from the ceiling, above the stairs leading down into what I assume is the basement, are six dead rabbits and four pheasants. Well, at least the meat is a little different than the bread and drink.

Hanging next to the game are a few ingredients, but I doubt any of them would be of any real usefulness in a crisis. This entire room is creaking and seems to be collapsing upon itself. If it was a horse I'd have slit its throat by now. I doubt this place gets very many customers. It's in the middle of nowhere, and it looks like _this_. If I was dying and I crawled in here, I _might_ just consider walking back out the door and trying my luck elsewhere. But there's a storm brewing outside, and I'm not _that_ stupid. Skyrim is cold enough _without_ a blizzard raging around you. The Khajiit stops talking to the innkeeper, and turns around. I quickly take a seat at a empty table.

I made sure to sit away from the mumbling man. I don't like the looks of him. The mage returns, and in her hands I see a few bottles of beer and some bread. Shocker. All this damned place seems to have is beer and bread. But I'm starving, so I don't complain at the lack of variety. Instead, I happily take my share of food and begin digging in. The woman slides in across from me, tearing into her own meal. For a while we simply eat in silence, allowing the sounds of the inn to wash over us. But the inn doesn't have a bard, so the sounds are mostly uncomfortable. A hacking cough from the innkeeper, a mumble from the man nursing a drink, and the _drip_ of water leaking somewhere.

I'm not a fan of conversation, but _anything_ would be better than this. It's almost maddening. I prepare to start a conversation with the mage, but she disappears before I can. She returns with more drinks and more bread. I'm not particularly hungry anymore, so I only accept the drinks from her. The woman shrugs and returns to her seat, devouring her meal. As I drink I feel a comfortable fuzziness curl around my mind. It's not enough to make me act like a fool or injure myself without realizing it, but it's the nice feeling where I no longer have to think. However, the sounds of the inn are still close to maddening. I _need_ conversation.

Even if it's not particularly good conversation. I clear my throat and ask the Khajiit, "What was with that Shatter-Shield guy?". She swallows a lump of bread and asks, "Torbjorn?". I nod and she examines her bread as she answers, "Oh, him? He's not a exceedingly _smart_ man. Or a _clean_ man. Actually, it's questionable if he's even a _man_.". She takes another bite of bread before finishing, "I like to think of him like a fat, diseased, inebriated cow. The only real difference is the cow would taste good if cooked.". I offer her a small smile at the comment. I can already tell that that's true about the man, and it slightly amuses me to think of the man as a cow.

The Khajiit cocks her head and tells me, "I think that's the first time I've seen you smile.". I agree, "It is. It's because it's the firs time I've ever smiled around you.". The woman finishes off her bread as she tells me, "Touché.". I'm not certain I know what 'touché' means, but I take it as a compliment. The woman looks over at the innkeeper, tapping her claws on the table as she clearly decides if we need more food or not. As she looks at the bar I look at her. A fact about Khajiits suddenly comes back to me. It's come back to me before, but it seems to come back stronger now. Khajiit can change forms whenever it pleases them, so why hasn't the woman ever changed?

I can't stop myself from asking it, my curiosity is just too great. As the woman taps her claws I question, "Why haven't you changed forms yet?". Her tapping stops and she looks at me like I've gone mad. "What?". I nervously swallow and repeat my question. "Why haven't you changed your form yet? You other forms could have come in helpful a while ago.". Her confusion doesn't clear up. Instead, she asks another question. "You mean, like my body? Like physically change my appearance and body's structure?". I nod and she repeats, "What? Like, what do you expect me to turn into?". It takes a moment to consider how to say it, then finally explain it to her.

"You know. Like into one of those small cats, or one of those giant saber-tooth cat ones.". Her eyes light up and she says, "Alfiq Khajiit and Pahmar Khajiit?". I shrug and she mumbles, "Gods damn.". I feel slightly insulted and angrily whisper, "What?". She brushes off my rude tone and resumes speaking. "It's easy to forget what time you're from. Khajiit can't change forms.". I roll my eyes at the woman. Her people always guarded their secrets closely. She's lying to try to keep her precious ability hidden, but it's not going to work on me. I assure the woman, "I know about what your people can do. Just tell me why you haven't changed form yet.".

The woman rubs her chin and sighs. "Would you care for a small lesson on my people?". I shrug. I suppose it couldn't hurt, but I already know a fair amount of information about the beast race she's from. The woman looks pleased and explains, "I'm not going to explain my culture, agriculture, or anything else. I'm going to focus purely on what you said.". I nod and she pulls a book from somewhere, opening it and launching straight into the lesson. "Khajiit are each subtly bound to the Lunar Lattice, a mysterious force entitled the ja'Kha'jay in our native tongue.".

"The Lunar Lattice determines the form a Khajiit assumes in life, according to the phases of Masser and Secunda at the time of their birth; while Khajiiti newborns appear incredibly similar to one another at birth, their future form becomes clear in a matter of weeks. This is due in part to the fact that, although born smaller than the children of either man or mer, the Khajiiti mature at a significantly faster rate. It is imperative to note that while the Khajiit derive their natural form from the moons of Nirn, their peculiar tie to such is in no way related to lycanthropy, for, unlike that disease, it is neither contagious nor temporal. A Khajiit will retain its form of birth throughout their life and the moons, although they affect in what form the Khajiit will be born, do not affect it after that.".

"Furthermore, there are _no known shapeshifting Khajiit_. There are rumored to be "more than twenty" forms of Khajiit, though to date, there is only information on a few of them. Even my people can't answer how many forms there are. Although it could easly be thirty or more.". She puts the book to the side. "I understand why you would think I could change my form, but I can't. Trust me, I would have by now.". The woman stops talking, seeming pleased that I've listened to the full lesson. I'm not sure how she wants me to react, so for now I stew in the information. Seems I'm learning something new every day I'm in this new place. Although I suppose it makes sense she can't shapeshift, I'm _certain_ she would have used that ability by now.

When I'm done stewing I give in to my curiosity for a second time. "What kind of Khajiit are you?". She puts her book back as she answers, "Cathay. My form was determined by Lunar Lattice: when the moon Masser is waxing and Secunda is full. To the outsider I look similar to the Suthay-raht in appearance and bi-pedalism, but my kind possess greater stature and strength.". I nod and offer, "Maybe I can fully learn about your people some time.". She nods in agreement, silence falling over us. I start a conversation again by asking, "Now what?". She stands up and I do the same. "Now, we sleep. The storm is upon us.". I nod and we both head to our rooms, the storm outside howling its lungs out.


	19. Conversations of Race

**Dovahkiin POV:**

When we're in our room I look around, deciding what I think of the place. The room that we were able to rent is the first room along the southern wall and contains a single bed, a messy wardrobe that's overflowing with random clothes, a chest at the foot of the bed that's popped open to reveal the minor loot inside of it, and a copy of _Walking the World _,vol XI, is sitting beside the loot. There also appears to be a bottle of Black-Briar Mead inside the chest, but I'm not a fan of the drink. And, Aealynn seems to have reached her limit on alcohol. At least she's smart enough to know when to stop. I'm not a fan of people who drink too much and end up acting like fools.

I stick my head out, walk a few feet, and look into the next room. The innkeeper told me the neighboring room can be used by only certain people, and we aren't on the list. It contains a dresser that's overflowing with clothes, I can see several common books scattered around the room, and a chest at the foot of the bed is popped open to show the small amount of loot. Adjacent to these two rooms are another room that I go to look at, my curiosity overpowering me. This room is far larger and has a double bed that's I'm completely certain we can't use. Several books are stacked on two dressers with messy clothes, and from here I can also see a steel dagger and three bottles of Nord mead on top of the dresser.

I begin exploring the room, looking for something. Hidden in the northern corner, behind three sacks of random food, is a coin purse. I leave it where it is. Along the eastern wall sits an empty chest and in the northwestern corner are two bottles of alto wine. I hear the innkeeper yell at me not to go snooping around, so I quickly return to our room. Aealynn is sitting on the bed, sharpening her sword. It suddenly occurs to me I gave her that weapon a while ago, and never bothered to take it back. Odd. I trusted her with a weapon around me, and I completely forgot about it. Aealynn could have killed me multiple times along the road, but she never even raised a fist to me.

It's an oddly comforting thought that the Breton could have killed me any time she pleased while we were traveling, but she never took the opportunity. My trust in her is significantly raised, and I'm glad the woman has earned my trust. And, by some extend I've earned hers. She hasn't tried to break free, or injure me in any way. I inwardly smile, then go to sit down in the chair. I pull a book from my bag and begin reading, but Aealynn interrupts me. She has a bottle of alcohol beside her, and I realize she must have found it while I was in the other room. She isn't acting like a fool or injuring herself, so I see no problem with it. As long as it isn't to excess.

She interrupts me by clearing her throat, putting her sword to the side. She cocks her head and starts to speak. "You've told me an awful lot about yourself and this time period.". I nod in agreement. I can tell the drink is loosening her up when she asks, "Would you like to hear my opinions on some things?". I carefully tread the waters of this conversation, taking care not to drown. "What do you want to talk about?". She easily answers, "Race.". Not good. Definitely _not_ good. I appreciate the woman loosening up, but I'm not sure I want to hear her opinions of race. However, I want to learn more about the woman and the time period (not to mention environment) she grew up in.

Besides, I don't want to scare her away from me or make her recede in upon herself. So, I nod and tell her, "Fire away, and I'll listen.". She seems pleased, but takes a small sip of liquid courage before beginning. "The Nords. When I grew up everyone knew they were raging savages, and temperamental brutes with hair trigger tempers.". She looks almost conflicted as she admits, "The ones in Windhelm seem like that, but the ones in Whiterun are the complete opposite.". She looks like a beaten child as she mumbles, "So, I suppose not all of that is true.". I nod, gently trying to urge the woman to stop stereotyping people.

The Breton shakes her head, takes another small sip, and continues, "The Dunmer are slave trading hypocrites. Prone to stabbing people in the back.". When she doesn't say anything else I clear my throat and question, "Did we ever get around to talking about the slave trade in Morrowind.". She shakes her head and I awkwardly tell her, "That might have ended. A few eras ago.". Her eyes widen and she snarls, "You're kidding me!". I shake my head and explain, "I'll fully tell you about it eventually, but for right now that's all you need to know. It ended a long time ago, and it hasn't been adopted by any race since.".

She sips some more of her alcohol, then asks, "Do you want me to continue?". I nod and offer, "I won't correct you again if you don't want me to.". She waves it off and assures me, "Learning is important.". I agree, "Learning is what makes us human.". The Breton swishes her drink around a little in her glass, then tells me, "I'll keep going, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt to correct me unless it was something important.". I nod and apologize, "I'm sorry if I've upset you. I won't do it again.". She shakes it off and mumbles something along the lines of 'it's fine'. I'm not sure if that's really her talking, or if it's the drink talking. But either way, we've moved on in the conversation. And, neither of our feelings are bruised. At least, mine aren't.

Aealynn clears her throat, moving on to the next race. "Those damned lizards.". I hold my tongue, but surprisingly the woman swallows and corrects, "I mean, Argonians.". She corrects again, "Those damned Argonians. Those things are emotionless and nearly invulnerable killers. Capable only of animalistic instincts. No matter what age or gender, those Argonians are always very reserved and calm when it comes to their emotions. Far too calm to be normal or human. It's almost like they prefer never showing their emotions or how they feel. When I was around it was common knowledge to everyone in Tamriel that the Argonian people are simply unable to "feel" anything emotion wise.".

She keeps going, "Their invulnerable art comes from the fact they seem to be able to regenerate their health and vitality at an alarming rate. It's simply terrifying in battle.". She looks at me, raises an eyebrow, and mumbles, "Scouts-Many-Marshes wasn't anything like that.". I nod and she continues. "He cried, hugged you, and reading his face was almost exactly like reading yours. Only in this case it was easier.". I don't interrupt her, choosing to take that comment as a compliment. However, Aealynn continues, "He showed his emotions freely. Is he always like that?". I nod and confirm, "He's a sensitive man, and likes sharing his emotions with people.".

She takes another sip of her courage and finally asks, "What's with the fact they can regenerate health and vitality at the rates they can?". I know the answer, and tell her, "It's a natural ability they have. It's called Histskin, and every Argonian has it. It's like your Dragonskin ability or my Night-Eye power. It's as natural to them as it's as natural for you to absorb magicka when you chose, or as natural as my ability to see things in the dark that nobody else can see.". Her eyes widen and she whispers, "Dragonskin?". I nod and am honestly shocked. "That's not what it was called when you were around?". When she shakes her head I reaffirm, "It's a natural ability every Breton has.".

"You absorb magicka when it pleases you. Can't you?". When she nods I tell her, "We've named a lot of natural abilities, and I can tell you more about them later. But right now we're talking about your opinions on other races.". She nods and gets back on track. "Your people are dangerous and thieving shape shifters that are unable to form emotional bonds.". As she carefully takes another drink (making sure not to suck down the last of the liquid) I playfully tell her, "Ouch.". She chuckles a little, then furrows her brow and sighs. "You've already explained the shape shifting misconception to me, but I've seen the rest for myself.".

I cock my head and go, "Oh?". She nods and nervously admits, "I watched you go explore the rooms.". At my still confused look her further elaborates, "I saw you when you found the coin purse behind the barrels.". When I don't say anything she explains, "You had the change to take something, but you didn't. And, you've proven it before. You had a few opportunities to take things from others, but you've never taken any. You didn't even exploit it when Scouts-Many-Marshes said he would do anything to repay you.". I nod and expect her to get off Khajiits, but she doesn't. "You're dangerous, but not in the way I thought. I always thought your kind would creep around in the shadows, attacking whenever it pleased them.".

When she goes silent I offer, "Like an assassin?". She nods and agrees, "Like an assassin.". She squints as she goes on to explain, "But you're not like that. You fight honorably, and with magic. I was told your kind struggle with the arcane arts.". I admit, "It's harder for us since we aren't naturally pulled to it, and we don't have a natural advantage. However, that hasn't stopped those who are persistent enough to try.". She accepts my answer and swishes her drink as she tells me, "You're an odd one alright.". I ignore her comment and offer, "You want to continue?". She nods.

"Wood Elves. They're all savage, and constantly ravenous, cannibals. Prone to eating a nearby person at random.". She finishes her drink and offers, "Care to explain _that_ to me?". I hold in my chuckle. She's had a little too much to drink (but still not _too_ much), so she feels confident about herself right now. I still want to correct her, but I'll have to do it in a gentle way. I clear my throat, offering a small lesson as I make a mental note to introduce her to Faendal. "The reason that the Bosmer would be called 'cannibals' is because, due to an ancient agreement with essentially the 'Mother of all Spriggans' centuries ago in Valenwood, the Bosmer are expressly forbidden from wasting ANY form of meat".

"ANY form, lest they break the 'Green Pact'. I'll explain the 'Green Pact' later if you wish. Now, moving on. This would be partially why the Wood Elves tend to avoid deadly confrontations, but when war is inevitable, warriors of their race will undergo long starvation periods before battle in order to uphold the pact. It's an ancient part of their tradition, and they uphold it at all cost.". My traveling companion squints even more and mumbles, "Weird.". Before I can respond she slinks down, softly beginning to snore. I chuckle and stand up, then walk over and gently take the bottle from her hand. Then, I turn and go, leaving Aealynn to her sleep.


	20. Winter Storms

**Aealynn POV:**

When I wake up it's still storming outside, and it seems it's getting even worse. I hop up and look out the window. A sheet of white meets me, and the roar of an angry ice god pounds in my ear. There's no way in oblivion _anyone_ is going to be out there, including the Khajiit and I. Only a fool would try to venture out in weather like this. And, fools don't live long enough to make such poor decisions. I hop off the bed, but I'm nearly sent crashing to the ground when my foot slips on a emptied wine bottle. I kick the glass under the bed, and remember what the Khajiit and I discussed last night. Someone else might regret speaking of those things, but for some reason I don't.

I shrug it off and look for another bottle of beer. I don't have the pounding headache of a hangover, but I don't have the warm fuzziness of drinking. It's an awkward in-between stage, and I intend to fix that. I find some ale in the dresser, and happily open the bottles. After drinking the sweet liquid I wonder what to do, and the answer quickly presents itself. I walk back into the main area of the inn and see the Khajiit idly sitting at one of the benches, a lute in her hand. I walk over and slide into the bench across from her. The woman nods at me in greeting, then offers me a hunk of bread. I take the loaf and tear into it, finishing it off within a few short minutes.

When that's done I wipe my face and question, "Did you legitimately enjoy hearing my views on other races, or were you sugarcoating them so you wouldn't appear rude?". I see mischievous glimmer in her eyes. It's an odd look on the usually professional Khajiit, but it doesn't stay for long. She calms herself down from whatever random thought wandered through her mind, and goes back to behaving like her usual self as she answers, "You views are interesting. I don't personally agree with a lot of your views, but everyone deserves to have their own opinions. If we all agreed with one another about every little things, then there would always be peace and war would be a strange and foreign idea.".

I counter her small speech by telling her, "But peace is a rare relief in this world of battle, and war is what everyone seems to be best at.". I quickly add on to the end, "At least, that's what it was like when I was around.". The Khajiit wistfully strums a string on the lute she's holding as she agrees, "Peace is still a rare relief in a world stuffed to the gills with battles, and war is something every race excels at.". She strums another string. "Well, most races.". She's peaked my attention and I question, "One race stands out from the others?". She nods, but doesn't offer a real answer.

I sigh. "Care to tell me which race is winning?". The Khajiit shakes her head. "No race is 'winning'. One race just happened to recently hand another race it's ass on a silver platter.". I take a guess, "Is it the Khajiit people? You sound proud like it's the Khajiit people.". She gives me an odd look and assures me, "It's not the Khajiit, and I'm not proud. I just find the whole situation rather ironic.". I take another guess, "That Argonians?". She shakes her head and finally gives up trying to be coy with me. "It's the Altmer of The Summerset Isles. One of the few races you didn't hit on last night.". I offer, "I could always go on about them right now.".

I think for a moment, then correct, "I could go on about them, but first I'd like to hear what poor race got fucked up the arse by those elves.". The Khajiit moves so she's sitting in a normal position and puts my curious mind to rest. "The Nords and Imperials got fucked up the arse by the Altmer. Actually, quite a few races got screwed up by the Altmer. But the Imperials and Nords got the worst of it.". She might have tried to quench my seeking mind with information, but I'm still hungry for knowledge. "Did the Khajiit get fucked over by the High Elves?". She makes a kind of 'yes' and 'no' motion at the same time with her head. "It depends on what Khajiit you ask.".

I can practically hear my eye twitch as I continue along this road, in essence like an angry dog chasing a hawk who's hundreds of feet in the air. "What do _you_ think of the Altmer?". I've trapped the Khajiit in a corner, and we both know it. She wasn't be subtle or around the bush, she was just attempting to have a little fun. That's fine by me, but a woman can only take so much fun. And, I've reached my limit. The woman across from me seems to sense my boundaries, and respects them. The Khajiit doesn't play the stupid game as she truthfully answers, "My opinion is rather grey and blurry. I've met few Altmer in my life, and less than ten of them represented The Aldmeri Dominion.".

"One man I met was stuck up and thought himself a gift to humankind, but he was friendly to me. He even gave me an amulet for being such a good conversational partner. In his mind it was probably little more that rewarding a beast for doing a decent trick, but to me it was proof that the some Altmer aren't as bad as others.". I interrupt by saying, "I feel like there's a 'however' coming along.". She agrees, "That's because there is a 'however' coming on.". I nod in understanding and tell her, "Bite the arrow and get it over with, we only have a short amount of time here.". The storm howling outside contradicts me, but the woman obliges.

"However, I once met a woman as evil as sin, and the cruelest being alive. I had to have an extensive conversation with her once, and it was terrifying. I'm not even ashamed to admit I nearly soiled myself when she smiled at me. And, what made it worse is the fact we were alone at the time. She kept bragging about the things she'd killed, and even went as far as to tell me how good my head would look mounted.". The woman shudders and I take the brief pause to notice, "You're still terrified of her, and you don't even know where she is.". The Khajiit nods and agrees, "I'm proud to say I'm smart enough when it comes to battle, and I give even the smallest enemy the respect an opponent in battle deserves.".

"But this woman doesn't deserve the simple respect every opponent deserves, she was worthy of piss your pants fear. We weren't even in battle and she had me fearing for her life. And, it was purely because of the words she spoke.". I can't imagine someone inspiring fear with only their voice, so I inquire, "What could she have said that had you so terrified?". The woman adjust her sitting position once again, trying to get comfortable on the hard bench. "Horrid things. She kept going on about how the enslaving of my people shouldn't have been abolished, and how lovely my skin would look as a rug.".

The woman shudders again, and I briefly see her looking at memories of times long gone. I can't even imagine someone threatening to make me into a rug, or mount my head for display. What would I do in that situation? Would I be fearful and allow myself to be cowed like the Khajiit was, or would I fight back and try to anger the Altmer enough to fight? Would I even _get_ myself into the position like that? It's hard to imagine I would, but weirder things have happened before. She snaps back to the present and brushes off her temporary shuddering fit. "So, tell me what you think of the Altmer? I've told you my opinion, but you're holding out on me.".

I suppose fair is fair, and the woman _did_ tell me her opinion on High Elves. It's not the opinion I was expecting, but that doesn't mean it's not hers. Besides, a promise is a promise. Even if I didn't officially make it, it was still an unofficial agreement. So, I allow my views on Altmer to slip by my lips, the Khajiit attentively listening to every syllable. "Altmer are cruel, cold-blooded, heartless, ruthless, egotistic, and oversuspicious snakes.". She doesn't seem surprised at my view on High Elves, but she does seem a little downhearted about it. We both fall silent. I'm waiting for her to start the conversation back up, and she's waiting for me to restart the conversation in some way. It's her who breaks the stalemate.

"Would you care for me to give a response to that?". I shrug and she takes it as an invitation. "I think you should meet an Altmer before judging them so harshly.". I can't resist the urge and ask, "The one who threatened to hang your head on her wall, and make your skin into a neat little rug?". She shakes her head and seems to smile a little to herself as she retorts, "No. No, I think you two would have too much in common and I'd end up going missing.". She offers herself a small chuckle at her own joke, then gets back to the task at hand. "All the Altmer are different. One gave me a treat like I was a dog, one treated me like I was a prized buck waiting to be shot, and one I'm glad to call my friend.".

I hold back the urge to roll my eyes. "How could you come to be friends with an Altmer? From what you've said they're all warmongers who seem full of themselves.". She waves off my concerns. "A few of them are, but you have to keep something in mind. The ones who are have one thing in common. They're all high ranking members in The Aldmeri Dominion. The gold of war lines their pockets, and everyone's told them from their childhood how wonderful they are. It's only logical they'd get big heads, and be desperate for a war to bring in some bonus gold for them.". A particularly loud howl from outside cuts off our conversation, and tells us the storm is getting even worse.

The Khajiit continues, "But I can't stress enough how that's not all of them. You can't judge an entire population based on the actions of a few.". I absentmindedly nod to appease the woman, but my mind is elsewhere. However, when I'm brought back to reality I offer, "Do you want to hear my views on the only two remaining races? I think you'd find it rather pointless if I gave you my opinion on Bretons.". She goes back to fiddling with the lute as she answers. "I don't think so. It's night outside, and I fear I've grown tired. Besides, we need to focus on what we wish to do next. And, a good night's sleep will give us both time to think.". I don't nod, but she gets the idea that I agree. We both stand and go back to our room, the storm outside beginning to worsen as the gods play their games.


	21. The Final Snow

**Dovahkiin POV:**

When I wake up the storm is still raging, and I can't help letting out a small sigh. I've grown tired of being in one place. But complaining won't make the storm stop, so I get up and dress myself. I clean myself up, then head out into the main part of the inn to get some breakfast. I get some loaves of bread and a few bottles of ale. Finally, I turn around and search for Aealynn. I see her in one of the empty booths, idly scratching something into the table. I make my way over to her, sliding into the bench across from her. The Breton lazily flicks her dagger at me in a sort of greeting, then goes back to carving into the wood.

I have absolutely no idea if the owner of the inn would mind his table being scratched up, but I have no desire to tell him about it. I stop thinking about the dour innkeeper, and hand my traveling companion her bread and alcohol. At once she puts her weapon in its sheath, giving the food her pure attention. As she rips apart her meal I carefully eat mine, and allow my mind to wander this way and that. When we're done Aealynn goes back to carving into the table, but tells me, "The innkeeper assured me the storm would be over before night fell.". I begin to examine my claws as I make simple conversation with the woman across from me. "Good, I have a plan on where we should go next. The storm was the only thing holding us back.".

Aealynn nods, continuing her sketch on the wooden surface. I allow us to fall away into silence, but I'm quickly too bored to allow it to continue. "Care to tell me your opinion on Orcs? If I remember correctly, which I do, they were one of the two remaining races.". Aealynn continues sketching as she answers, "If you're willing to hear it, then I'm willing to say it.". I nod, then realize she isn't looking and say aloud, "I'm willing to hear it.". The Breton continually digs her knife into the table as she answers. "They seem to favor violence over diplomacy, have certain beliefs they refuse to waver from,". I hold back my remark of 'similar to you', and focus on hearing the rest of what the woman has to say.

"and they never seem to break from their traditions in even the slightest way. But they're absolutely amazing at being smiths, and I'm certain they can craft almost anything under the sun. Almost every single one of them seems natural in the art of fighting, and giving them a great-sword is like giving a mammoth a giant's club.". She still focuses on her sketch as she questions, "Are the Orcs still like that today?". I've only met a few Orcs in my travels, but I answer her as honestly as I can. "The women seem to have taken up almost all of the smithing, and I've met a few Orcs who prefer sword and shield to a two-handed weapon.".

"However, they've still proven useful in any battle. And, their smiths can still fashion almost anything imaginable. Quite a few are stuck in traditions and ways, but now it's more sociably acceptable to break those rules. They might not be welcomed back to their original stronghold, but no other clan shall shun them if they decide to join their ranks. You also have to remember that Orcs now have the ability to thrive on their own. And, with the new social acceptance of rule breaking, more women are finding it easier and easier to refuse the prospect of getting married. Some strongholds are even doing away with the entire 'clan chief' thing. They're rare and far between, but the number is growing with every year.".

"Malacath is still their god, and they worship him as fervently as ever. That's about all I can tell you about the Orcs. Just remember that I've only met a few on my travels, and I haven't even been to more than three strongholds.". Aealynn stopped drawing about halfway through, and now she's giving me her full attention. "So, it seems their reputation hasn't changed much. An impressive feat for any race.". I nod in agreement, but remind her, "Their culture has gone through some major changes. Although everybody's has.". She nods and the silence once again consumes us, trying to swallow the whole inn.

I decide to bite the arrow and tackle the last subject we've touched. "What about the Redguards of Hammerfell?". Aealynn was idly attempting to clean something from under her nail using the dagger, but I've once again gained her full attention. She puts the weapon off to the side, takes a small moment to think, and says her opinion of the last race we haven't touched. "They tend to be absolutely unyielding, they're all extremely bold, heedless, unnaturally confident, and tend to be conceited. But it's a well-known fact that they're by far some of the _best_ warriors in all of Tamriel. Even the weakest Redguard can take down nearly any opponent without breaking a sweat.".

"It's like they come from the womb with a sword in one hand, and a shield in the other. It's almost mesmerizing to watch them in combat, it's almost like they're an artisan at work that's making their greatest masterpiece ever.". I take a moment to consider if the Redguards have changed much, then respond to the Breton's statement. "The Redguards are still some of the best warriors in Tamriel, but for the last hundred years or so they've been fighting with Orcs for that title. They still own it, but I wouldn't be surprised if the Orcs one day managed to snatch it away from them. Or maybe I'm being paranoid, and the Orcs aren't even close to overthrowing the Redguards.".

Aealynn nods and continues scribbling into the table. My curiosity gets the better of me and I stand up, then walk around the table. The woman doesn't mind when I stand beside her, looking over her shoulder. The symbol of The Daggerfall Covenant is etched into the wood, and it's so deep the poor innkeeper's lost the entire table to it. Aealynn brushes away some wood shavings, and I see she's added some extreme lengths to add detail to the wood. Swooping patterns, depth where it's needed, and slight contrast in parts of it (how she managed to add contrast to a wood carving I'll never know). She must have been doing this well before I woke up, and she's obviously put some extreme heart into it.

I'm jolted out of my admiring gaze by the Breton turning her head slightly and looking over her shoulder. For a moment I think she's offended, then she tells me, "The storm has stopped.". I perk up ears up and listen. Sure enough, the raging wind outside has stopped howling for blood. I nod and question the woman. "Do you wish to leave?". She nods and rises, following me back to our room. We gather our supplies and go back out into the main inn. As an afterthought I buy some food for the road, and hand over a decent portion to Aealynn. The woman nods and we both go out the door, the slight wind already chilling us.

* * *

><p>The path to Winterhold is a long and treacherous one. It's filled with monsters, brigands, and occasional holes in the ground that could shatter our legs or trap us completely. However, there is one thing that's working in our favor. The weather. The storm raged on throughout the night, and now the entire area seems to be out of breath. There's still a tremendous amount of snow and ice covering the entire path, but at least we don't have to worry about another storm rearing its head and blowing us away. We occasionally have to go around a particularly risky block in the road, but that's about the only trouble. In fact, it's almost peaceful out here.<p>

The entire world is an off white, and the harsh ground is turned into a collage of gentle slopes. I've stopped to admire the view, and Aealynn is by my side. She couldn't seem to care less, but at least she isn't complaining about going faster like Serana occasionally would. The Breton beside me takes out her rusted iron sword, idly swinging it through the air. Her filthy and rusted armor _jangles_ as she moves, and the noise is amplified by the stillness of the entire world around us. When Aealynn gets bored she puts her sword back up. She allows me to enjoy the view for as long as I want, but eventually I decide enough is enough and it's time to go. I turn and begin walking, the Breton following me.

We've barely gone more than a few feet when I hear the _click_ of horse hooves against ice, and I unfortunately know what's coming next. I raise both of my hands, fire crackling in one and frost snapping in the other. Aealynn apparently didn't hear the sound of approaching bandits because she suddenly fumbles for her sword, and it takes it a moment for her to get it out. But once it's out the Breton is ready to fight, and begins looking everywhere for her opponents. However, that's where the problem lies. The canyons around here amplify sound, and cause thunderous echoes to ring throughout the entire area. And, the world is nothing more than a gigantic sheet of white at the moment.

I swivel my ears around, but it's fruitless. Eventually I sigh and begin doing what I feel is the stupidest solution. I begin walking in a circle, looking everywhere. Almost instantly Aealynn criticizes, "What are you doing? Stop that, you look like a fool!". I see the bandits off in the distance and stop, pointed in their direction. I smirk and tell her, "A fool who just found the bandits!". Aealynn follows my gaze, and freezes when she finally sees the brigands charging us. Three mounted warriors are charging across the white plane at us, and even from here I can see they're heavily armored and most likely armed to the teeth. It doesn't matter how fast we run, we'll still have to fight.

As the brigands draw near I feel Aealynn brush my side, and spare a glance over. Her rusted armor and sword are like something a young adventurer would have. And, the skeletons of young adventurers fill the graves of Skyrim because of positions like this. I pour a little more magicka into my palms. I'll need it to defend myself, and Aealynn. The bandits are closer, and I can see them clearly now. Two lanky males and a solid looking female, all of them wearing steel plate armor.

On their backs are strapped their weapons. The woman carries a hammer, one man carries a bow, and the other carries a sword and shield. All of their horses are gigantic snorting beast, and I can already tell they'll try to help their masters win the fight. The woman's horse is even armored. The metal he's encased in is rusty, but it makes him extremely tougher to kill. I might be able to hit them all with a shock spell, but their armor is probably treated to reflect such easy tactics. Damn. I get a little closer to the Breton and ask, "Ready?". She nods and confirms, "Ready?". The bandits slap their horses one more time, and they're upon us.


	22. Brigands

The two men ride over to Aealynn and begin circling her, staying _just_ outside of her sword's range. The monstrous woman remains trained on me, and she doesn't show the slightest intent of stopping to fight. I nearly scoff at her tactic and lack of style. I've fought enemies hundreds of times her size, I won't simply be killed by a horse running me over. _Right_ when the woman's horse is about to pummel me I leap to the side. The horse and rider both scream in rage as they fight to stop their frantic flight. I take the time to fire an ice spike at the horse's ass. My projectile hits its mark, but the beast's armor prevents it from really sticking. I hear the _wiz_ of an arrow coming my way, and instantly flatten myself to the ground.

I can't look over to see how Aealynn is doing, but I'm assuming she isn't doing good. Why else would the archer be free to fire at me? I hear the thunder of hooves coming at me, and instantly roll to the side. I'm _barely_ on my side when the beast stampedes past me, trampling the area where I was lying. Another _wiz_ of an arrow, and another roll. More thundering hooves, another roll. Another _wiz_. Oh fuck this! I leap to my feet, the arrow piercing the ground where my head was. More hooves, but this time I don't flip away. I turn and unleash my most powerful flame spell, and it has the perfect reaction.

The horse screams in fear and yanks up. His rider begins screaming every single word of profanity the world knows. Her horse finally comes down, but that doesn't do his rider much good. The beast begins trying to run away, and his rider begins forcibly yanking on his reins. The result is a bucking horse and cursing rider. I hear the _wiz_ of an arrow, but I don't have the chance to roll away. My flame spell cuts off and a yowl leaves my lips, the arrow finding its mark. It's ripped through my robes and hit my side, sliding itself perfectly between my ribs. I fall to one knee and gasp, my hand desperately searching for the arrow. I hear the armored horse still bucking, but more thunderous hooves are coming at me.

The damned archer. I flatten myself to the ground and send a prayer to the gods. For once they listen and the horse harmlessly passes over me, and I'm able to successfully roll around underneath him so he doesn't kill me. However, something almost as bad happens during my roll. The arrow gets caught between the ground and my body. A sickening _snap_ tells me the arrow has broken in two. And, a sharp burst of pain makes me aware I've shoved the serrated arrow head even deeper into my side. I can't help it. I moan in pain and curl in on myself. Another stampeding horse gets my attention and I roll out of the way. I'm not fast enough.

One of its back hoofs hits my side, and I scream as multiple ribs shatter. I do something all of my teachers have advised me _never_ to do it battle. I cast a masking spell. It's a healing spell that'll block out the pain. Nothing more, nothing less. When it's cast I jump to my feet, and the horse that I didn't hear coming at me stops and screams. I smirk and shoot an ice spike at the unarmored horse. The archer's steed dies and crumples. The bandit curses as his leg is trapped between the horse and the icy ground below them. I shoot a flame spell at him and the brigand roars in pain as his flesh crackles and cooks, slumping off his bones. The man is still twitching when I feel a hammer hit my shoulder.

I stumble out of the way, and out of reach of the head brigand's weapon. My masking spell still protects me, but now my arm refuses to raise completely. At least I can still cast spells. Maybe. I curse and charge at the trapped brigand, the man quietly whimpering as he clutches his ruined face. When I near him I leap, putting my whole weight behind my jump. The man's skull _cracks_ and explodes, covering my boots in brain matter. I flip around and see a horse's chest right behind me. I _barely_ roll out of the way in time, the head brigand charging by me. When she turns around I shoot a lightning spell at her, and this one seems to be somewhat effective. At least, it is to her horse.

The beast cries out and begins twitching, falling onto his side. He isn't dead, but he won't be thundering at me any time soon. However, his rider is a different story. The brigand jumped from her steed the second he began to fall, and now she's focused completely on me. Her hammer glints in the dim sunlight as she rushes at me, roaring like some feral beast. I'm ready to blast her with a fire spell when disaster strikes. My masking spell wears off, and every single injury comes barreling down on me. A shatter shoulder, broken ribs, and an arrow that's rattling around inside my body. When the woman approaches me I can't stand it anymore, and I fall to the ground.

The brigand seems completely surprised, and doesn't have time to right herself. Her foot connects with my head, and the brigand goes tumbling to the ground. The woman curses and I take the moment to cast another masking spell, this one stronger than the last. I sigh and begin pushing myself up, the snow below me now stained pink from happily drinking in my blood. Where in oblivion am I bleeding from? I consider stopping and healing my wounds, but that would be pointless. There are too many to do it properly, and I have more pressing concerns. Like the brigand that's charging me again. I gather all my magicka and shoot two spells at her. One a fiery inferno, the other the harnessed cold of Skyrim itself.

The bandit screams, but it doesn't stop her charge. I keep the spell on her, but begin backing up as quickly as I can. It doesn't work in the slightest. The woman catches up with me, and uses her hammer to pull my leg out from under me. I curse as I go down, my spells cut off as I desperately try to scrabble away from the gigantic brigand. My scrabbling is futile, and I feel her weapon connect with my stomach. Oh fuck, I felt that through my masking spell. I can't even begin to _imagine_ what that broke and busted inside of me. However, I can't think of that right now. I leap back up, shooting more spells at the bandit. "WHY.".

Her hammer comes out of the misty flames, but it completely misses me. "WON'T.". Another swing, but this time I'm forced to leap back to avoid it. "YOU.". The brigand attempts to charge me, but I manage to dance out of the way. "**DIE**!". The brigand roars the last word, her hammer swinging out of nowhere and coming directly at my head. I take one step backwards, the weapon barely missing my toes. I smile and keep my spells up, and begin to taunt the woman. Enraged opponents make mistakes. "Milk drinker!". A sudden slash to my back makes me scream, but it's mostly in fear. I stop the spells and rush a few feet away, turning around to see both bandits facing me.

The one with the sword snarls at his leader, "How is she still standing?!". The leader shoulders the man and threatens, "Shut up and kill her, or I swear I'll gut you like a fish!". They've argued long enough, and I take the chance to attack. An ice spike goes straight through the swordsman's helmet, and a _squishing_ sound comes from him as he falls. The leader roars, and I realize I should have taken her out first. She comes charging at me, and swings her hammer as hard as she can. I use a flame spell on her as she charges, but nothing seems to deter this monster. Her hammer hits my gut again, and I'm lifted off my feet. I flail as I'm spun through the air, hit the ground, and begin to roll against my wishes.

I hit a warm body and groan in agony, my eyes flipping around in my skull. That blow completely ignored my masking spell, and I felt every part of it. When I finally gain control of my eyes I see a familiar Breton's face come into view, and I realize I've hit Aealynn. I weakly moan in an attempt to rouse her from her slumber, but it doesn't work. I look down a little and see the snow around us is a red mush, the powder having happily sucked up the blood from both of us. My stomach tightens and I realize Aealynn provided most of the blood. I manage to stagger to my feet and turn around. The brigand isn't even looking at me.

She's busy trying to yank her dead friend from beneath his horse. For some reason the woman assumed I died when she struck me. Probably not the smartest move considering she's seen me defy dying multiple times. But this works to my advantage, so I don't complain. Instead, I cast a spell that'll make me invisible for a few short seconds. Once I'm hidden I crouch down and begin sneaking over to her. I'm closing in when the woman senses something is wrong, and turns around to look at me. I instantly freeze up. If I'm caught, then I may as well have signed my own death certificate. The brigand pauses and looks over at where Aealynn is lying, and for a moment she seems confused.

It's because my body isn't there, and that I'm nowhere to be found. But the woman isn't the sharpest sword in the blacksmith's shed, and she shrugs it off without concern. Stupid bitch. I sneak a little faster. I can practically _feel_ my spell wearing off, and I don't want to get caught trying to kill her. When I'm close enough to touch her back I stand up, grab her helmet, and yank it off of her. My invisibility spell shatters and the woman turns around. Her eyes widen and she curses, but I cut her off with a flame spell aimed directly at her face. The brigand screams and tries to walk backwards, but she trips over her deceased companion.

She falls to the ground and I press the attack, beginning to use every single spell I know. A ice spike to the head finally does her in. I walk a few feet away, put my hands on my knees, and spend the next three minutes panting. I'm only roused into action when my masking spell begins wearing off. I cast it before I feel my injuries. If I felt them now, then I know I'd fall to the ground and never regain the strength to stand. When I'm taken care of I rush over to Aealynn, the Breton still lying in the snow as the powder begins to consume her. I slide to my knees beside her, putting my fingers to her neck. For a moment I think she's gone, then I feel the faintest of pulses.

Perfect. I try to find where all of the bleeding is coming from, and it only takes me a few seconds. A gigantic slash on her back is the blow that the brigand with a sword landed, and the reason he was free to attack me. I have _just_ enough magicka to work a powerful healing spell on her. It's not the best in the world, but it's sealed up her back enough so she won't die until I can get her to someone better. Preferably Colette Marence at the college. Aealynn begins mumbling, and finally opens her eyes. "What happened?". I don't answer, instead helping her to her feet. The Breton is heavily leaning against me, but as least she has enough strength to walk. I manage to pull the armored horse back to his feet, and we both mount him. As we begin to ride I send a silent thanks to the gods. At least we're alive.


	23. Colette's Healing Hands

When we reach Winterhold I don't stop, instead urging my horse on even more. I force him up the steps of the college and across the stone bridges. As we go I can't help looking over the side of my horse, and down to the ground hundreds of feet below. I gulp and sit back like normal. Aealynn is mumbling as she hangs onto me, and I can't say I blame her. She's out cold by now, but at least she's alive. However, the most concerning thing is my masking spell is wearing off. I urge my horse on faster as I begin to feel the arrow bouncing around in my side, destroying anything it touches. I finally reach the professors' sleeping tower. I leap off my horse and gently lower Aealynn off of him.

My borrowed horse looks at me, sniffs my head once, and begins walking away. Damned stupid beast. I carefully place Aealynn down, then rush to catch up with the steed. I grab his reins and tie him to a pillar, then return to the sleeping Breton. She sighs as I pick her up, but there's no other signs that she's okay. I use my back to open the door to the tower, and slam it shut behind me using my foot. I take a deep breath and scream, "Colette! I need some serious help down here!". The restoration professor screams back, "Give me a minute!". I sigh and assure her, "It's _really_ important!". I hear her coming down the stairs, and see her shadow being thrown along the wall.

When she sees us she runs over and takes the Breton from my arms. She briefly looks over the woman, shakes her head, and tells me, "Come with me, I have some healing supplies up in my room. She'll be better in no time.". She looks up at me, grimaces, and corrects, "Both of you. Both of you will be better in no time.". I nod and wave at her to get to work. As Colette leads me to her room she screams, "Phinis! Get your arse up and help me heal these two!". I hear the conjurer ask from his bed, "Can't you handle them?". I answer for Colette. "One of the people who needs help is _your_ boss!". Phinis instantly changes his tone as he promises me, "I'll be right up! Just give me a minute to put some shoes on.".

Colette has reached her room, and with one swipe of her hand she clears a table to put Aealynn on. When the Breton is on the tabletop my fellow mage moves away, then kneels down beside a chest that's pressed against her bed. She pulls out dozens of potions, herbs, and other healing items. Phinis walks in about halfway through, carrying even more supplies. Once everything is gathered they move the items so they're beside Aealynn, and so they're easier to reach in a crisis. Colette turns to Phinis and gives him a few commands, then turns to me and questions, "What are these woman's injures, and when did she obtain them?".

I quickly relay every part of her battle, all I saw of Aealynn, and what I believe the greatest blow was struck with. When I'm done the mage nods her head and mumbles, "I'll have to give her some potions to fight against infections.". She goes back to moving potions, and I feel my masking spell wear off. I gasp and fall to the ground, desperately clawing my side. I look down and see a puddle of blood surrounds me, the red liquid is all over my hand, and the side of my robe is ruined by the gunk. I swallow and manage to moan in pain. It's all I can do. I attempt to crawl towards the two mages, but it's useless. I end up on my side on the floor, whimpering and twitching in pain.

Colette has noticed and screams at Phinis, "Get her! Do something! The Arch-Mage can't die! Who on Tamriel would take her place?!". Good to know Colette cares so deeply for me. I roll my eyes at my own sarcasm, and feel Colette use an extremely powerful masking spell on me. It's more powerful than I could ever do, and even more powerful than I could ever imagine. I'm thankful for it as I push myself up. When I'm standing my foot slips in my own blood, and I end up falling towards Phinis. The man catches me and allows me to lean all of my weight on his shoulder. He drags me over to Colette's bed, and carefully helps me onto it.

As I lie there I see Colette go to work on Aealynn, but I can't see exactly what she does. I attempt to push myself up to get a better view, but Phinis pushes me back down and shakes his head. I groan in protest and Phinis hisses, "Don't move, your side is bleeding more than a slaughtered pig. It's a miracle you made it back to the college without bleeding out.". I manage to gather my words and insist, "I feel absolutely fine.". He snarls in response, "Of course you do, you were using some of the most powerful masking spells ever known! You could have busted open your knee and you wouldn't have felt it!". He shakes his head and assures me, "Hold still, and I'll stitch you up.".

I shake my head and the man sighs before asking, "_Why_?". I swallow and explain, "There's an arrow in my side.". He grinds his teeth and whispers, "_Where_?". I shrug and point at the general area of my wound. Phinis shakes his head and asks Colette, "Is that one stabilized?". Colette answers, "Yes, why?". He pulls up my robe and tells his superior, "The Arch-Mage has an arrowhead buried somewhere in her side, and she doesn't know where it is. And, I don't feel comfortable digging around in her side without you.". Colette is at my side in an instant, and sighs when she sees my wound. The woman tells Phinis, "Hang on for one minute.".

Phinis looks at my side and tells the woman, "I don't think we have a minute to spare.". That's not comforting in the slightest, and I crane my neck up to look at my wound. There's a large gash in my side, and blood is soaking absolutely everything around it. How did one tiny little arrow do so much damage? Phinis pushes my head back down and Colette returns, pliers in her hand. She commands Phinis, "Hold her open.". The man looks at the wound with a look of disdain on his face and sighs, "Do I _have_ to?". Colette slaps him on the head and snarls, "_Yes_!". The man rolls his eyes, but gently reaches out and peels back my flesh. Colette checks to make sure the pliers work, then shoves them into my side.

Almost instantly Phinis says, "Blood.". For a moment I'm confused, then my vision begins to swing wildly and become blurry with tinges of black. I'm losing enough blood to feel it, and Phinis just stated it in the calmest manner possible. But his calmness is nothing compared to when Colette barely looks up from her work as she commands, "Give her a potion to restore the blood, and try to keep her from moving around or panicking.". I'm about to say I'm not panicking, but that's when I feel my wild heartbeat pumping my minimal amount of blood through my veins. I've unwittingly been killing myself faster.

I swallow and try to calm myself down by counting. It starts to work, then I feel a bottle being pressed to my lips. I realize it's the potion to help with my low levels of blood, and I eagerly open my mouth. The potion taste like beer that's turned bad, but I drink it all down. The gods only know how quickly I'd die without it. I suddenly hear Colette go, "Oops.". I begin fighting to get up as I panic. I'm usually an extremely thoughtful, smart, and calm person, but nothing makes a person panic faster than hearing the person who's digging around in their side go 'oops'. Phinis grabs my head and forces me down as he says, "It's fine! It's fine! She just pushed the arrow in a little deeper. She'll get it out, and you'll be fine. Just, calm down!".

His words manage to break through my fog of panic, and I calm down significantly. As I lie there Colette tells me, "You've pushed the damned thing even farther!". I hear the pliers mash around for a little bit, then Colette sighs and gives up. "I can't get it.". Phinis snarls, "Give it to me! Go work on the Breton, I'll help this one.". Colette seems reluctant, but gives in and moves away. The man opens my side once again, and I see his arm carefully and methodically move deeper into me. Finally, I hear him whisper, "_Finally_!". He yanks the arrowhead out of me, and a spray of blood hits me and him.

He grimaces and says, "I'll need more potions for your blood.". He moves away and returns, pouring three more potions down my mouth. When he's done he tells Colette, "What spell do I use to stop all of this damn bleeding? It's like a river. It's just like a big, red river of blood.". I can't help myself. I raise my head, chuckle, and tell him, "Good analogy.". Phinis shoves my head back down and mumbles, "Nobody asked you.". Colette intervenes by answering, "Use a light flame spell to cauterize the wound. Try to avoid the organs, we can't afford the time to fix those. Burn a single intestine, and _boom_ everything is fucked to oblivion.". Phinis rolls his eyes and mouths Colette's words, mocking the woman behind her back.

As he does he uses a flame spell on my guts, occasionally pausing to wipe away the tremendous amount of blood that's gathered around the wound. As he does I raise my head and see a sight that quickly sends me back to lying down like a good little patient. The sight was a brief glimpse of my own innards. Or maybe it was just my muscles and I was overreacting. Either way, it was absolutely disgusting and I could have went my whole life without seeing it. However, I hear Phinis go, "Damn it.". I begin panicking once again, but then man sighs and mumbles, "Have to put you under.". Everything goes black.

* * *

><p>When I wake up I'm outside, and snow is piling up around me. I shake it off and see Aealynn sitting across from me, leaning against a pillar. I stand and the woman makes a weird noise as she wakes up, instantly looking at me. I help her up and question, "What happened?". The Breton shakes some snow out of her hair as she tells me, "They fixed us both up and put us out here.". I roll my eyes and promise, "I'll talk to them later.". The woman questions, "Later?". I nod and explain, "I'm going to go get you some better armor. I think it's best, given what's happened.". The woman nods and I realize she's wearing normal clothing. It's no doubt because of the poor condition of her old armor.<p>

I take her down to the local smith and vaguely tell him what Aealynn requires, but I leave a lot of it up to the woman who will be wearing it. Finally, I sit down as the two talk by the forge. I pull a book from my bag and begin reading. However, I notice my robes have been fixed and cleaned. I'll have to thank Colette and Phinis later. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Aealynn coughing. I look up and take in the sight of her new armor. It's easy to see the armor is light, so that's a good feature. At least the woman won't be weighed down. It's out of what appears to be improved bronze. I notice some white parts and question the smith. He's cleaning up as he explains, "Saber cat's teeth enamel.".

I grimace a little, but keep examining the woman's armor. She has piked knees and elbows that are crafted out of gleaming bronze. The spikes remind me of Serana's dragon scale armor, but I don't tell the woman that. The boots and gauntlets look similar to what the thalmor guards wear, but shinier. Prettier somehow. The shoulder plates are nice and rounded for fighting purposes, but taper into points that stick out to the side in an intimidating manner. Even from here I can see the white shine to it. More saber cat teeth gunk. Aealynns' right shoulder plate has an odd design to it, and I can't help smiling. The woman probably picked it out by herself, and she'll be happy with it.

And, while the armor's defense is important, how much a warrior likes their armor is almost as important. The design itself is a tinier, metal version of a saber cats' upper jaw and skull. The beast's teeth overlap with the pointed ends of the shoulder plates. Both of the armor's cauldrons are angled downward for some reason. The body's armor is some sort of big cat's fur with bronze armor layered throughout it for protection. Aealynn's defenseless stomach and chest are protected by more saber cat teeth gunk armor, and I doubt another sword will ever reach her. I notice her head is unprotected and ask the smith, "What about a helm?".

He motions at Aealynn and explains, "There's a fur hood on the back. She can use it as a mask as she wants.". I stand, and I can't help the smile that splits my face. Finally, the woman is protected and looks somewhat happy. Finally.


	24. Ondolemar's Plea

**Aealynn POV:**

I admire my new armor as the Khajiit pays for it. I'm not sure how much this must have costs, but it _had_ to have been quite a few gold. I'll have to thank the woman eventually. Maybe. As I'm putting my rusted sword in my new belt I hear the mage walk over. The woman examines my weapon as I put it up and notes, "I'll have to get you a new sword one of these days.". I nod in agreement. Those damn brigands we fought hardly even felt my sword slashing at them, and my armor was like parchment when their weapons hit it. At least my armor is better, so there's less of a chance of me dying now. The Khajiit opens her mouth to say something, but a courier interrupts us when he barrels into the smith's working area, nearly running down the Khajiit mage beside me.

He shoves a letter in her hand, pants a sort of greeting, and rushes away. As the Arch-Mage opens it I question, "What's wrong now?". She shakes her head and reads aloud, "I demand your presence in Markarth. We're on the verge of finding more Stormcloaks in our midst, and we need your assistance. Signed, Ondolemar of The Thalmor Embassy and Representative of Jarl Igmund of Markarth.". She crumples up the note, sighs, and explains, "We'd better go help him. I don't want innocent people getting their heads chopped off. Especially knowing I could have saved them.".

I nod in understanding and follow the woman back to the college. When we arrive she goes over and pats the bandit's horse on the snout. The steed seems reluctant to accept the woman who killed his rider, but he doesn't protest when she mounts him. Smart little horse. I go over and reach a hand out, running it over the elven armor that encases the animal. The grey beast whinnies and flicks his tail, willing to get going. I can already tell he's young, workmanlike, and of a good riding type. He's definitely hardy, strong, and sure-footed. I mount him and the Khajiit slaps his side. The horse rushes away as fast as he can, and doesn't even care that two people are on his back.

No wonder the brigands used this beast, he's the best damned horse I've seen! He doesn't even panic when he rides across the crumpling stone bridge. Although I make the mistake of leaning over his side and looking at the ground below. Motion sickness grasps me and I sit back in the saddle, swallowing my nervousness as we finally cross the bridge. As we leave the city I hear the mage tell me, "We're going to take some more trafficked routes to The Reach. I don't want us getting caught by bandits again. When we enter The Reach we'll take some more unknown routes, so The Forsworn can't find us.". I nod as the horse rides on, the wind curling up around us.

* * *

><p>When we finally arrive at Markarth it's early morning, but the sun isn't near up. The mountains that protect this hold also block out the sun until around midday, so I won't get to feel the warmth of the sun on my face for a few more hours. The Khajiit and I dismount and tie our horse to a pillar, then turn and walk up the few stone steps to reach the gates of the city. The guards nod at the Khajiit, but seem to draw away from me. I don't pay it much mind, but the woman in front of me sighs and chastises the men. "She isn't a damned Forsworn. Don't get so jumpy all the time.". The two nod and seem to calm down a little, but I can hear them breathe a sigh of relief as we move on.<p>

Once we're in the city I make sure to take a look around. My traveling companion spoke very highly of this place, and I want to make sure to take it all in. I didn't believe it when the mage told me this place use to be a Dwemer city, but not I see she wasn't lying and trying to pull my leg. The city is noticeably different from any of the cities in Skyrim that I've visited, and completely different than any of the cities I saw before waking up. Much of the city is carved into the rock face which surrounds it, and it's clear the builders of the city planned on using the stone as a natural defense. I'd say it would work well enough. As we walk the Khajiit tells me something.

"Jarl Igmund is the ruler of the Reach. He's absolutely terrified of a group called 'The Forsworn'. They're almost exclusively Breton, so you might get a few stares. Don't pay them any mind.". I absentmindedly nod. I was barely listening, but it was something about not staring. The Khajiit continues, "There are many races populating the city, but the people of Markarth are not fond of outsiders and the guards treat them like a shepherd would a rabid wolf. Half the city is owned by the damned Silver-Blood family. It's part of a reason why the town struggles, but I'm sure the family will be satisfied soon enough. They also own Cidhna Mine, one of the worst prisons in Skyrim.".

"It's inside the city walls somewhere, but I never cared to seek it out. It's said to be the most secure prison in Skyrim. I doubt it. There's an area dug into a cliff wall called 'The Warrens'. It's where most of the poor of Markarth live in extreme poverty. Most of the inhabitants of The Warrens work in the mines and at the smelters in the area. The guards are quartered in a Dwemer dormitory carved out of the stone beneath the giant Guard Tower at the center of the city.". I once again absentmindedly nod, but question, "Why are you telling me all of this?". She shrugs. "I want you to appreciate this place. We might be here a while, and it's worth appreciating.".

I nod for a third time, but this time it's true. This place seems amazing. Like a true testament to the ingenuity and persistence of the entire mortal race. Only generations of hard work and dedication could make a city like this appear out of nothing. Soon we're walking along a small stream that seems to run through the city. It makes the stones we're walking on slick and shiny, so I take caution to watch where I step. I don't want to end up tripping and getting my brand new armor wet. However, no accidents occur and we reach the Jarl's home easily. Once we're inside I find it extremely hard to breathe, and the Khajiit beside me is panting in agreement.

We go further into the palace. It's like a dwarven ruin that's been smashed to bits, slightly fixed, and deemed good enough to live in by some blind man. Not to mention the dust that constantly dances in the air, and shoves its way down your throat whenever you inhale. Things improve slightly the more we go. We reach a large staircase, and when we're at the top the dust can't seem to follow us. I spot the Jarl's throne in front of us, but the Khajiit guides me off to the right side. We enter a small hallway, go up three steps, and reach a door. The Khajiit reaches out and knocks a strange rhythm on the metal. Within a few seconds the door is answered.

A tall golden Altmer opens the door, and his green eyes instantly lock on the Khajiit. The man is wearing strange robes, boots, and gloves. I made a mental note to ask about his outfit later. He suddenly sighs and reaches out to the mage, clasping her shoulder in a sort of greeting as he tells her, "Thank the gods you're here. I was beginning to think everyone in this entire city was an idiot. But when you're here there's at least one other intelligent being besides me.". The woman lets out a tiny chuckle to prevent any tension as she accepts his words with, "I'll consider that a compliment. So, what seems to be the problem you're facing?". He steps aside and motions for us to enter his room.

I hesitate, but the Arch-Mage walks straight in. I inwardly sigh and follow her. I'll have to teach the woman to be more cautious of High Elves, or else she'll end up with a knife between her ribs one of these days. However, the Altmer doesn't stab us. Instead, he closes the door as I examine the room. Three beds line the wall across from the entrance, a small kitchen area takes up a corner, and a stone table dominates the middle of the room. Two female Altmer are at the table, playing some odd version of chess I'm assuming is specific to their race. The two spot us, but only one of them reacts. The one that does just flicks her hand in greeting, then goes back to playing the game before her.

The man walks towards the women, but as he's walking by me he seems to notice me for the first time. He struts over to me, squints, then asks the Khajiit, "A Forsworn you're guarding?". The mage instantly replies by chastising, "Ondolemar!". The man raises his hands in his defense and tells her, "Hey, hey! Just asking. No reason to get all jumpy about it. There are just a ton of Forsworn in these areas, and I wouldn't put it past you to try to reform one of those bastards.". The Khajiit is shaking her head as she repeats, "Ondolemar. You _know_ better than to assume any Breton person is a member of the Forsworn. How would you like it if I just assumed every Altmer was a member of The Thalmor?".

The man stands firm as he defends, "Most Altmer in our homeland _are_ with the Thalmor. If you went to certain parts of our home island, then you'd be safe to assume every Altmer in that area is a supporter of the Thalmor.". The Khajiit shakes her head again. "I still think it's wrong to assume things about _anyone_ based on their race.". The Altmer replies in the childish manner of sticking his tongue out and going 'pfft!' to the Khajiit. I expect the Arch-Mage to be upset, but instead she offers another small laugh and tells the Altmer, "I've missed you.". He nods and agrees, "I've missed you to. It's been far too long for my liking.".

Ondolemar whistles and the two elves snap to attention, one carefully hiding their game of chess for some reason. The male elf motions at the door and orders, "Go scout the halls. Make sure they're aren't any Stormcloaks.". The two nod and slink away, carefully closing the door behind him. Ondolemar motions at the table and tells us, "Please, sit.". The Khajiit slides into one chair, and I take the one next to her. As the Altmer gets settled in the chair across from us the Khajiit questions him.

"So, why did you bring us here? You've handled worse things than Stormcloaks, and without my assistance.". The man sighs and admits, "I fear the problem is more complex than I originally told you. I just needed to get you here without worrying you, or revealing too much in the letter.". My companion rubs her temples and announces, "You have a story.". He nods and agrees, "Naturally.". The woman waves her hand and commands, "Say it.". The Altmer nods, and launches into his tale.


	25. Markarth's Secrets

**Dovahkiin POV:**

Ondolemar clears his throat and says one word. "Murders.". I roll my eyes and counter, "People are murdered all the time in Skyrim. I wish I could take time and mourn for every single lost soul, but I can't. People die. They're mourned for by a few. Then, everyone moves on and the victim is forgotten about. It sounds cruel, but this is a harsh land. Murders and death aren't that uncommon. Why couldn't you handle it on your own?". He shakes his head and repeats, "_Heinous_ murders. Murders only those truly insane or daring could pull off without ruining it. Twenty-five within the last week. Want me to read you the list?".

He pulls a large scroll from underneath his seat, holds it out in front of him, and looks at me with a questioning glance. I shake my head and he nods in understanding. "The first murdered victim was-". I groan, but he doesn't take the slightest amount of time to care. "a Nord bard who was shot with an arrow while performing. His killer shot him two more times in the head, then fled the scene. Nobody knows who it was surprisingly.". He takes a moment to adjust himself, resting the scroll more comfortably on his upper thighs. "Then, a Breton alchemist went missing. Nobody in our search parties noticed anything until a few days ago. Her skull was found outside the gates with two arrows sticking out of it. The killer wasn't found.".

"This next one is on the record as one murder, but there were two victims. A Nord merchant and her ten-year old daughter. They were both shot with arrows, then their killer attempted to burn the bodies. His attempts were far less than adequate, and the guards were able to put them out before they turned to ash. Again, no suspect or found killer. The next male Nord guard was shot with an arrow. Twenty-seven times. And, his corpse was found floating in the public bathhouse. No clue, killer, or suspect. Not even a drop of blood oddly enough.". I interrupt by mumbling, "Someone took the time to clean up.". He nods and keeps going.

"A female Redguard who worked as a whore was found in her modest home. At first we thought it suicide, but given the recent murders we aren't so sure. She was hanging and her neck was snapped, but anyone could have killed her and framed it as suicide. A small puncture wound on the back of her skull only makes it more puzzling. The next Breton male was a drug dealer of questionable repute, and his death is the worst so far. Robbed, beaten, and barely alive when we found him in a pool of his own blood. All he had time to do was groan before death, and nobody there knew what to do in order to heal him. Although at that point I think it would have been hopeless to even try to help him. More puncture wounds.".

"The next one is another whore, but this time it's a man. All of the victims before him had been Nords, Redguards, or Bretons. This one was a Khajiit. A single puncture wound. Right above the heart. Hardly any blood, and another strange detail. He was found atop a horse that happened to appear in the city stables. The beast was unhurt, healthy, and wasn't even frightened.". He shakes his head and tells me about the next victim. "An Argonian woman who tried to help the poor by praying over them. The healer who did the autopsy was horrified at this one. It appears the woman was brutally tortured and murdered by someone in what has been described as 'a catalogue of depravity by one human being upon another'.".

"The healer said for about a period of four weeks, the killer inflicted numerous injuries to the imprisoned victim which included burns, beatings, stabbings, and even gouging of the eyes. The scene of this crime was so horrific that the guards who found it had to receive professional counseling to help them deal with the horrible distress of seeing the site of the victim's injuries and the 'sickening violence' of the murder.". He sighs and says, "There's even more, and we can't find a connection between any of them.". I take a moment to think, then tell him, "More.". He nods and goes on.

"This one involves two Imperial sisters and two Nord caretakers. The two young sisters were left in the care of the Nords. In exchange the Imperials' parents gave the Nords a small sum of money and some beer each week. The parents went missing a while ago, and no search party has found them. When the usual stipend of beer and money was late, the Nords began taking their anger out on the Imperials' children with beatings, burns, confinement, and a host of other abuses we believe resulted in death. The Nord caretakers (along with other accomplices) were charged and convicted of what had been described as 'the most terrible crime ever committed in Markarth'.".

"The Nords have been hung, and they submitted to the story completely and without question. However, the sisters' burial was last week. One of their friends attended, and leaned in to hug one of them. Guess what he found behind one of their ears?". I fill in, "A strange puncture wound.". He nods and goes on, "Another wound on the other child. The parents never told us the full story, they just submitted to what we tried to pin on them. Appears they were innocent, and just gave in.". I feel my ear twitch as I mumble, "Disturbing. Highly disturbing.". He nods and agrees, "Disturbing as oblivion. Want me to continue? We only have a few left.". When I nod he goes on, his face slightly upset as he continues to tell me tales of murder.

"Only a few days ago we found the body, but the corpse looks like it could have been sitting there for weeks or months. A Redguard woman. She was a registered healer and quite popular with the men. And, on occasion some lucky women. One of our senior guards suggested the woman was abducted from a carriage station in Riften, or some other town in Skyrim. We don't know that for sure, but we do know a few things. She was brought to a hidden room beneath the stones of Markarth and raped repeatedly while being beaten by an unknown amount of people. I'm not sure how the healer knows she was raped, but he knows.".

"There wasn't any seed on her at all, so that means the rapist/killer was smart enough to clean up or it's a woman. Again, a puncture mark on her neck. For a short while we thought we had some suspects, but our search has proven fruitless. All of them are guilt free, and after investigating we realized our mistake. They're innocent, and there's no question about it. Now, let's go to the next murder, shall we?". I notice Aealynn looks slightly uncomfortable, and I take a moment to offer, "You can go outside if you don't wish to hear any more of this.". She shakes off my offer. I nod in understanding and turn back to Onfolemar. "Go on, we're listening.". He nods, adjust himself and the scroll, then begins reading once again.

"A Khajiit man who was a beggar was found sexually battered and covered in arrows down by the river. His body was bloated from days in the water, but it was pretty obvious his was murdered. He was the first person to be murdered that wasn't a resident of Markarth. All the rest lived here, but he was just a traveler. A poor traveler, but a traveler all the same. The sexually battered part was actually pretty obvious. I'll spare you the details, but just know it wasn't a pretty sight. The next murdered victim was likewise a traveler. A female Breton who made her life by hunting. Her body was found in the middle of the market.".

"Multiple stab wounds, a puncture wound on the back of her skull, and a long rope tied around her neck. Beside her laid her adopted son. A three-year old Nord boy who was slower than all the other children. He had trouble walking, talking, and doing anything of importance. Poor boy got a fever when he was a babe, and it messed with him the rest of his short life.". He shakes his head and moves onto the next victim, "Male Redguard, age thirteen. Aspired to become a smith's apprentice, but never got anywhere before he died.". He seems distressed as he tells me, "After this I only want to tell you about two more murders. I'm getting rather tired of this.". I nod in understanding and he keeps going.

"The boy's young life was troubled, having run away from the home of his neglectful parents. After a small spell in the mine, he went to live with his grandparents. After a fight, the boy snuck into their room at night and robbed them both with his grandfather's satchel and knife. He tried to steal the carriage outside the city and run away but was apprehended by guards, when he confessed - but never showed any remorse. He spent another year or so in jail, but someone paid his bail and he got set free. Within two days of his release he was found dead. Puncture wound found on skull.". He takes a moment to collect himself, then gets on with it and tells us yet another story of some murdered victim.

"This one actually happened just this morning. Five people involved. A male Redguard, female Argonian, female Khajiit, male Nord, and female Breton. The five people appeared to be killed with a wood-splitting tool in some mill, but the strange punctures are still there. All of them were found resting at the steps of the temples. They were in various stages of rotting, so the bodies must have been around for quite a while.". He shakes his head and sighs yet again, and I can tell it's getting to him. I lightly encourage, "Come on, one more and we'll be done for the day.". He nods, takes a moment, and slowly says the final one.

"A male Khajiit Bard was found hanging upside down from a balcony at the top of Understone Keep with a strange puncture mark on his chest. The Jarl was shaken up, and that was when he demanded us to investigate. You solved The Markarth Incident, so I figured you could help with this one.". I nod and tell him, "The puncture marks and/or arrows are the only thing connecting them. Well, that and one other thing.". Instantly my friend leans in and whispers, "What?". I explain, "None of them were elves. Every single race, occupation, and gender was killed, but elves were conveniently left out.". He cocks his head and questions, "You think it's an Altmer extremist?".

I shrug and explain, "Nothing is impossible to rule out at this point. Absolutely anything could have happened.". A knocking at the door interrupts us. Ondolemar looks slightly upset, but calls out, "Come on in.". One of his female lackeys comes in, and the sicken look on her face tells me something is definitely wrong. It must tell Ondolemar to because he stands up and questions, "Who did they find?". The woman swallows and answers, "Redguard man. Disemboweled and chopped into little pieces. An arrow sticking out of his recovered skull.". The male Altmer looks to me and jokingly asks, "Want to catch a murderer?". When I nod all three of us stand and begin walking, the crime scene awaiting us.

* * *

><p><strong>Small update: On my decision to expand outside The Elder Scrolls universe. I'm still mulling over things, but here are a few of the options and my opinions. Just looking for feedback, and any thoughts or comments. This is only a small sample, there are plenty more. I'm just putting up the ones that got two or more suggestions. However, I could go any direction.<strong>

**1. Fallout. One of my buddies will almost never stop talking about this. Ever. Literally half of the conversations he has are about Fallout. It seems interesting, but I only have the vaguest of experiences with it. Mostly hearing chatter about it. I'd have to gain more knowledge about the series.**

**2. Halo. Again, a different friend of mine enjoys Halo. But another series I only have vague relations with. Currently awaiting the arrival of a game from the series to improve my knowledge, but it hasn't come yet.**

**3. Dragon Age. More vague relations, and the same buddy from number 2 urging me to get it. From what I've seen and heard it looks interesting.**

**4. A Song of Ice and Fire. Two years ago these were all I talked about, so I know a ton about them. A quick brush up and I'd be ready to write. However, I'm not certain if I want to go this direction. I don't really have a pairing that calls to me, and the characters are already so developed by George R. R. Martin.**

**5. Harry Potter. Another series I'm familiar with, but I fear I have bad memories of this one. Not because of anything in the series, but my ****fiancée at the time broke things off with me when I was halfway through them. I just got in a slump and connect 'Harry Potter' with 'remember that time you got dumped so badly you got physically sick'. However, I've gotten over the fiancée since then. Actually, I think I'd be good to go. Just another quick brush up, and I could get going. Probably the easiest to write, but it would once again be exclusive to femslash.**

**6. The Lord of the Rings. Don't shoot me, but this actually isn't my cup of tea. They're important works and beautifully written, but I just can't get into it. I've read them all, watched them all, and done everything, but I just _can't_ get into it. I don't think I'd be happy writing this, but you never know. Maybe if it's heavily requested or encouraged.**

**7. T̶w̶i̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶. Over my dead body.**

**So, tell me what you think. -KhajiitWarriorSam**


	26. A Kidney and Bone

We find the Redguard man in an abandoned ally, and his blood is absolutely everywhere. Staining the walls, floor, and anything near him. The Altmer guard wasn't lying, the man is literally hacked into at least a hundred tiny little pieces. Poor bastard. The only part of his body that isn't chopped up is his skull, which is currently looking up at me from beside my foot. His faded blue eyes are opened in shock, and two arrows are sticking out of his skull. I carefully begin walking around the scene of the murder, my companions hanging behind. Ondolemar looks disgusted, Aealynn looks upset, and the female bodyguard looks about ready to piss herself.

I shake my head to make myself focus, and get back to looking at the crime. I see certain wounds look like they were inflicted by claws of some sort, but that was most likely after the man died. Some bite marks confirm what I'd imagined. At one point an animal had access to the body. As I begin shifting through the pile of Redguard I ask Ondolemar, "Were any of the victims missing body parts?". I see him shrug out of the corner of my eye as he admits, "I don't know. The healer never said anything about it when he examined the bodies. I could ask him if you want.". I nod and tell him, "Sooner is better than later.". He nods and quickly dismisses himself, but that might also have something to do with the sight of the dead body.

I can't say I blame him. I'm currently up to my elbows in the man, attempting to make some sense of the jumble of meat that was once the body of a living and breathing human. The oddest thing in the world is I don't feel bones. What kind of animal would only eat the bones of someone? Did the murderer rip open the body, take out the bones, and do something with them? Highly unlikely. There's a reason people eat the meat and fat of an animal, but leave the bones untouched and unwanted. They taste disgusting, can possible harm a person, and cooking them takes far too much time and effort. It's possible the murderer might have fed the bones to an animal, but that also seems strange.

What was so alluring about the bones? I turn to the female guard and kindly ask, "Can you catch up to Ondolemar, and tell him to ask the healer about the bones of the victims?". She nods and scurries away. Aealynn is the only one that remains. "You really think an extremist did this to someone?". I shrug and explain, "Extremist have done worse things.". I hear her swallow as she nervously asks, "Do you think I'm an extremist?". I stop digging and rephrase her question, "Do you mean can I imagine you doing this to someone?". I see her nod out of the corner of my eye and I answer, "No. I might have at one time, but not now.".

She seems relieved as she assures me, "I wouldn't.". I nod in understanding and go back to digging. My hand brushes against the only organ remaining in the body, and I happily yank it out. A kidney. I turn it around in my hands, examining it for anything odd. I grimace at what I find. Correction, it's a _bitten_ kidney. I bring the organ a little closer to my face, and gag at what I see. The kdiney was bitten into, then had a small portion of the inside scooped out. But whatever was eating it eventually decided the effort wasn't worth it, and left the rest of the organ alone. I put the kidney to the side and begin shifting around in the pile of meat. Nothing.

Just some rotten skin, leftover muscle, and dried blood that's hardened onto the corpse. The only other thing I found was the kidney. I shake my head and make my way over to the skull, carefully picking it up. No tongue, nose, or ears. Even the poor man's hair has been shaved off. This murder just keeps getting stranger and stranger. I remove the arrows from the skull and examine them. Wooden shafts, feathers from a duck for the fletching, the arrowhead is made of bone, and sinew ties the contraption together. Too primitive for a smith to make, but too advanced for a Forsworn to make. The other arrow is the same. All I can do is shake my head in confusion.

I hear footsteps, and look up to see Ondolemar returning. I rise and nod in greeting. The Altmer nods back and tells me, "Most of the bones were cracked open, but only a few were missing. A few organs were missing here and there, but never to the extent of this.". He notices me examining the body and asks, "Who do you think did it?". I kick the body is frustration and tell him, "The bodies have been shot down, but the puncture wounds _couldn't_ have been what killed them. They're too shallow and tiny. The arrows might have killed him, but there's one problem. No blood.". I show him the clean arrows and he nods in agreement.

"Since the organs were taken away that means someone or something ate them. However, the kidney wasn't eaten. A wolf or bear wouldn't have questioned the taste of the meat.". Ondolemar nervously questions, "You suspect it's a human?". I nod and continue, "The bones are the next problem. A wolf wouldn't have eaten all the bones, and bears would have just destroyed them. These ones were removed, and the ones in the other victims were cracked.". The Altmer nods and tells me, "So, we're looking for a cannibal?". I shake my head. "A cannibal wouldn't have ripped a victim up like this. And, they would have taken more caution. This is practically flaunting the murder at us.".

Aealynn adds, "If I was a cannibal I would have eaten more of the corpse.". Ondolemar looks revolted, but I nod and agree, "If someone relied on eating humans, then they would eat all the meat they could get. Whoever killed these people is a hunter of sorts, fast, dangerous, and eats his kills. However, not all of the kill is consumed. That means he's confident he won't get caught, and loves flaunting the murders in front of us. The few bodies he tried to dispose of he botched, so he obviously isn't going to win any awards for cleverness. If he isn't clever, then he'd have to rely on his strength to get away.". Ondolemar asks, "A brute?".

I nod and tell him, "It would have to be. An assassin would be more stealthy, and a mage would have used spells to kill and hide the body. Only a brute who relies heavily on strength could do this.". My Altmer friend looks concerned as he asks, "What can we do?". I shrug and offer, "You could do a gigantic manhunt for someone hiding out in the hills, but that would be worthless. Too many Forsworn, bandits, and hermits live in the wild. All you can do is let small search parties comb the woods for any more bodies. I would also suggest warning the citizens that a dangerous murderer is on the loose, and that they shouldn't go off into secluded areas alone. Maybe even triple bolt their locks at night.".

Ondolemar cautiously suggest, "That would cause mass panic in the population.". Aealynn pipes in, "People could scatter or flee, making them easy targets for the murderer.". I nod in approval at Aealynn and agree, "Making them afraid might do more harm and good.". I turn make to the Altmer as I tell him, "Just make sure the citizens know to be a little cautious. Most of the victims lived here, didn't they?". When he nods I advise, "I'd offer the farmers and those who live outside of the city free housing. Nothing fancy, just some cots in the keep. Offer those who live far away the change to come and temporarily live here, and offer those within an hours walk the chance to sleep in the keep at night.".

"Just make sure all of them get in before night falls. Murderers rarely do their deeds in the light of day. Too many witnesses.". Ondolemar nods at my wisdom, but says, "It might be hard to convince some of the farmers to leave their homes. They're always fearing attacks from The Forsworn, and the roads to and from the city are dangerous. What do I do if they refuse to come, and the murders keep happening?". I look at the body of the Redguard man as I tell him, "Offer them gold. If they still don't come tell them that their Jarl demands their presence. The ones still too stubborn to move need to be forcibly taken.".

Aealynn questions, "What about the ones who refuse to move even after threatened force?". I shrug and explain, "I suppose they're better off dead.". I lightly kick the corpse at my foot and tell Ondolemar, "I'd get some healers down here to clean up the mess.". He nods and asks, "What should we do next? You're in charge of this after all...". I freeze up and repeat, "_I'm_ in charge of the manhunt to find out who's behind this disastrous spree of murders?". He nods and smirks as he replies, "If you didn't want to be, then you would have left the second I told you what was going on. Or you wouldn't have shown up at all.". I take a moment to appreciate his cleverness, then gruffly announce my plans.

"If I'm in charge, then we need to do what I say. Have guards follow any recent strangers, put up warning posters throughout the city, do as I've planned with those who live outside of Markarth, increase the guard patrols, light fires along the city walls that burn twenty four hours a day, warn every citizen of the danger, scourge the entire city for any more bodies or hiding places, have men at every post at every hour, send messengers to all Forsworn and bandit camps to warn them, protect everyone of importance, and begin sending small groups of men into the woods and hills to look for bodies.". Ondolemar nods and begins writing all of my orders down.

When he's done he asks one last question. "What do you want to do?". I take a moment to consider it. I might not like the fact that I'm being forced to solve these murders, but now I owe it to the people of Markarth. Hiding in the keep wouldn't do them any good, it would lower morale, the citizens would see me as a joke, and the murderer would become confident and feel free to kill. I'll _have_ to help, or else I risk making the situation even worse. However, I don't want to end up on the end of the killer's blade.

What job will raise morale and make people take me seriously, but won't make me the next target of the crazed killer that's somewhere in The Reach? I answer my Altmer friend's question. "I want to lead one of the parties combing the hills and woods.". I look over my shoulder at Aealynn, "Would you like to accompany me? I'm sure they would welcome you at the keep if you wished it.". She shakes her head and assures me, "I'll go with you.". I nod and tell Ondolemar, "Have a party of hunters meet us at the stables in an hour. We have a killer to catch.".

* * *

><p><strong>Tiny little note: I know you just read one and you're probably not looking forward to it again, but suffer through. For me. Now, onto another matter. In precisely 30 days or so, the most important day of my life is happening (well, that's debatable on how important it is). It'll be going on for about a week or so. I'm not sure how many days it will take up, but it'll be a while. Thirteen days is probably the maximum, but it could be as low as four. Either way, expect a small update hiatus in a month. Nothing big, just a tiny pause. Trust me, you'll never know I was gone.<strong>

**Also, a new schedule for what I think is going to end first. 1. Maid in Whiterun. 2. The Path of Those Before Us (A New Order) 3. A Life Across the Ages. When I get down to 'A Life Across the Ages' I'm going to purely focus on it, update daily, and power through it. Then, I'm going to do another Elder Scrolls story. I've decided to limit myself to one story (for a brief period), but eventually I'll get back up to two. During this short one story drought, I'll be working on a secret project. I may or may not reveal it based on how things go.**

**When I get to the second story it will be set in another game or book that isn't Elder Scrolls related. ****I have no idea how long it will take, or what other game or book I'm going to choose. Just know that the ideas from last chapter are solidly in my head, boiling around and moaning in pain. I've been doing this since I first started writing 'Survivors', and I'm just going to have to power through a little longer. By 'a little longer' I could mean any amount of time. Two hours, two weeks, two years! I just truly don't know. Anyway, thanks for reading. -KhajiitWarriorSam**


	27. The Eye of Darkness

The refreshing shade of the sentinel trees had seemed so inviting only a few hours earlier. Our horses had trodden along so confidently, their shadows dancing along the pale bark of the Silver Birch and the tight black buds of the Ash. Aealynn was and is beside me, her young horse always shying away from my elderly stallion. The white steam from our lungs was rising amid the cool late winter air, and a few of the men behind me began playing a game with their breaths. Something about blowing rings. It had all seemed so childish and easy a few hours earlier. Even I had gotten swept away in the moment, and used some of my magic to make a conjured wolf.

He'd ran among the lines of horses, yapping and licking people's hands. Now true night has fallen, and the woods isn't welcoming visitors. The thick trees are glaring down upon us, and the cold is beginning to settle in. Our horses pant and whine as they're forced up the famous hills of The Reach. Even my conjured wolf has gone silent. Soon enough all of us are stomping in a freezing stream, clouding it with our dirt and filth. All of my search party yanks their feet up in disgust. Eventually our torches begin to burn low, and I stop to scream over my shoulder for someone to go into the trees to collect some branches and leaves for more torches to light our path. A single man disappears and I take the moment to listen to the birds. My horse takes the moment to stomp in the mud.

Aealynn nudges her horse closer to mine, and I notice the search party is hanging back from us. Odd, but who am I to question the people of Markarth? My Breton companion suddenly whispers, "It's not safe out here.". I nod in agreement, but I'm mostly focusing on my torch. It's sputtering and gasping for air. It'll die within the next few moments. I turn back to look at the men I've been leading. The few torches I see cast ghastly shadows on the volunteers, and the rest of the people are shrouded in darkness. I yank my horse around to address them. "Soldiers. This is an evil place, and isn't fit for human life. Be on guard, and _never_ leave the group without telling me and gaining my permission.".

"If you wish to turn back. Well, too bad. Unless a large portion of you wish to turn around, then we'll continue forward. Now, who wishes to return home?". A few hands shoot up, but not enough. I shake my head and explain to those who raised their hands, "There aren't enough of you to justify all of us going back, and there aren't enough of you that I can send you all back together. You'll have to stay with the group. Choose someone braver than you, and stick with them. Now, where in oblivion is the man I sent to get supplies for more torches?". A general mumble goes out among the group. Nobody knows where the torch fetcher is.

I roll my eyes, turn my horse in the general direction the man went, and scream, "How damn long does it take to fetch torches?!". No answer. The entire forest seems to go quiet, only three sounds are traveling through the air. The ragged breathing of horses, the gasping of nervous men, and a whimper from my conjured wolf. I look down at the last beast. My conjured monster is huddled on the ground with his tail between his legs, slowly shifting on his paws as he looks in the general direction of where the man went to fetch torches. I lean down, tap him with my boot, and demand, "Go get it boy! Come on, go get it!". The wolf looks at me, then proceeds to turn around and run away.

The horses scream and rear as my wolf pushes past them, howling in fear. Oh fuck it all to oblivion. Now the entire group is demoralized. I swallow and whisper to Aealynn, "Watch over them while I'm gone.". I speak up and announce to the group, "I'll go find the damn torch bearer. Probably taking a piss.". A weak laugh from the group before I nudge my horse in the side, urging him forward. My beast slowly struts forward, and I can feel the fear rolling off of him. His sides are heaving between my thighs, his breath is making a white cloud right in front of us, and his trot is slower than molasses. I reach out and pat his neck to comfort him.

The beast doesn't seem very comforted, but at least he moves forward. My dying torch causes shadows to dance and flicker around me. Fear begins crawling into my skin, but I shake it away. I sent the man in here to find torches, and I plan on finding him. I suddenly feel someone watching me. I swallow again and begin looking around. Shadows. Shadows everywhere. All I can see is the dancing darkness. My horse suddenly screams and rears. I'm completely unprepared, and I feel myself fly from the saddle. I grunt as I hit the ground, but my experience isn't over. My foot is caught in the stirrup, and my horse doesn't show signs of stopping. As he begins bolting I scream at him to halt.

I might as well be screaming at a tree. My back and head begin slamming against the ground. On instinct I start twisting and turning about in a desperate attempt to break free. For once the gods seem to help me, and my foot pops lose. I curl up on the ground and sigh in relief. However, my relief quickly becomes worry. I have no idea where my horse took me, but I lost my torch along the way. And, that feeling of being watched is still there. I slowly rise onto my hands and knees. That's when I feel it. Something is breathing on my neck. I swallow and look up. Darkness. Just darkness. Then, a puff of breath directly on my face.

The insane thought of casting a mage light spell hits me. I shove it down and come back to my senses. Whatever is in the darkness, I _don't_ want to see it. Another puff of breath, and I nearly vomit at the stench. Rotten meat, shit, sweat, and dirt are the only things I can use to describe it. I hear the _slurp_ of someone licking their lips. I swallow and take a crawling step backwards. A _crunch_ of leaves. Whoever is in front of me came forward with me. Another step for me. Another _crunch_ for them. Slowly, I rise from the ground. I hear the creaking of joints, and another puff on my face confirms my fears. The person moved upwards with me. I move my foot backwards a little farther, and dare to take a bigger step.

Two resounding _crunches_ and another puff of rancid breath. Suddenly, I feel the breath again. Closer. Stronger. A deep inhale, and another _slurp_ of the culprit licking their lips. I swallow as my heart pounds in my chest, my entire body encouraging me to run away as quickly as I can. I manage to fight down the urge. Running would only make this person or thing wish to chase me, tackle me to the ground, and kill me. And, I don't want to die. At least not today. My salvation comes from someone I never would have expected. A familiar voice calls out my name, and a torch brings light off to my right.

I hear the sound of multiple horses, and realize the search party must have gotten tired of waiting for me. Thank the gods. As the party gets closer I open my mouth to call for them, but something interrupts me. A single brown eye swims from the darkness, locked directly on me. The figure in the dark growls out two mangled words. "_Behind_ _you_.". I hear Aealynn call out for me once again, but now the horses are walking in a direction away from me. I regain my sense and scream, "AEALYNN!". The brown eye disappears, and Aealynn begins thundering towards me. As the torchlight engulfs me I allow myself to breathe. I look over and see the Breton riding towards me, my horse's reins securely in her right hand.

The sight is actually rather impressive. The woman has a torch in her left hand, my horse in her right, and is using purely her legs to steer her own steed. When she reaches me she waves her brand new torch and explains, "Someone else had some spare torches in their bag. Damn idiot got quite a few bruises from the other men. You didn't come back, and the men started getting worried. A lot of them insisted we go back to Markarth, but I made them come look for you. We all stayed together, so I figured it wouldn't break your rule of going off on our own.". By now the search party has caught up with us.

From the looks of it Aealynn made the right call. The group looks slightly more pleased with themselves. _Technically_ they didn't accomplish anything (finding your own lost leader isn't that big of an achievement), but at least it raised their morale. That's why I'm going to have trouble telling them the next part. I swallow and clear my throat, taking a step or two backwards so I'll be able to talk to them all. That's when my foot _squishes_ into something. I slowly whisper to Aealynn, "Hand me a torch.". She can tell from my tone of voice that something's wrong, and she easily hands over the burning piece of wood. I take a moment to gather myself, then turn around to shed light onto what I've stepped in.

The man I sent to get wood is lying on the ground before me, and his blood is covering my boot. No arrow marks his body, but I know the killer had to have been the one we were looking for. His skull is a crushed mess, his entire torso is shredded, and one of his legs is missing. I hear the party begin mumbling as I go over to examine the man. His sword is still in his sheath, but when I flip him over I see what killed him. His entire front is slashed open, and his intestines are hanging out. Whoever killed him attacked him from the front, and did it quickly enough he couldn't defend himself or call out for help. I hear someone dismount from their horse.

Aealynn kneels beside me and mumbles, "We need to take him back to Markarth. He isn't eaten as much, there might be some clues on him.". I nod, stand, and command the men, "We found what we were looking for. Not exactly in the way we wanted to, but we did. Someone take him back, we're heading to Markarth. There's someone out here ready to kill, and we need to be careful. Nobody stays, strays, or does anything to make themselves look weak. The killer murdered this soldier, and he was wearing armor and had a weapon. Protect yourself at all costs, and follow my lead. Everyone understand?". A general mumble comes form the group, and I take it as agreement.

I nod and climb back onto my horse, and someone heaves the dead body into their saddle. "Make sure to get the organs.". The man nods and scuttles downwards on his horse, gathers the organs up, and nods to confirm he's ready to go. I turn my horse around and yell, "To Markath!". Everyone yells back, "To Markarth!". As I begin riding through the darkened woods I zone out, the only thing on my mind an eye in the darkness.


	28. The Return Trip

**Aealynn POV:**

The entire way back is terrifying, and my mage companion is constantly jumping in her saddle and looking around the forest. I'm not sure what happened to her that she isn't telling me, but something _definitely_ occurred. Finding a body isn't a pleasant experience (unless you're psychotic) and being in the dim and cold woods isn't a fun time, but the Khajiit literally had her arm inside a pile of goo that was supposedly a person this morning. She's not a milk drinking swine who recoils at the slightest trace of blood. I've seen her _kill_ people for crying out loud. Stepping in a little blood wouldn't have her shaken up this much. A sudden howl resonates through the woods, and all of our group's horses begin bucking and start to whinny to one another in a panic.

The Khajiit calms down her stallion and loudly announces, "A pack of wolves is near us. It's probably the smell of the corpse.". The man who's carrying the body nervously eyes the blood covering him, and he even dares to ask, "Do you want me to drop the body?". The woman shakes her head and explains, "If we leave the body in the woods, then we've achieved nothing. We have two options at this point. Go hunt down the wolf pack before they find us, or kick it into high gear and get out of these forsaken woods before those damned beast find us. Anyone care to vote on it?".

Everyone is silent and my companion nods in approval. "That's what I'd assumed everyone would want to do.". She'd yanked her horse around to talk to the group, but now she yanks it back and announces, "Let's get our asses in gear! No breaks, detours, or slowing down! We all go at one speed, and that speed is fast enough to make a maiden's head spin. And, we stay together! Everyone understand? Any comments, questions, or concerns?". Someone in the back announces, "What if we start to fall behind, or can't keep up. The Khajiit shrugs and answers, "May the gods have mercy on your soul.". A silence falls over the group and she rolls her eyes.

"Sarcasm. If you can't keep up, then speak up. We'll either move you onto a stronger and faster horse that can carry two riders, or we'll all slow down and keep pace with you. We don't leave people behind. Either we all come back to the Jarl, or none of us come back. Now, any more questions?". When everyone goes silent she insist, "Come on, come on. This isn't a classroom. If you have a true question, then ask away. We all need to be on the same page for this one.". Another howl from the wolf pack is her answer. The Khajiit looks up at the sky and finishes, "We're only an hour or two away from Markarth, so let's get to it!". She turns and slaps her horse on the ass, speeding away.

I likewise slap my horse on the ass, and the entire search party speeds up to stay in a large group. As we ride I tell the Khajiit, "Your sarcasm didn't go over too well back there.". She nods and agrees, "It never truly does.". Another howl, but this time it's close. The horses begin to nicker in concern. "Those beasts sound closer.". My mage companion agrees, "They are. Damned creatures somehow manage to thrive in this land of destruction. Although I'd thought the Jarl got rid of them years ago. Back then those beasts were eating cows, dogs, and horses. The final straw was when one had the guts to eat a baby. Jarl ended up sending multiple man hunts out, offered a hundred gold for every pelt he got.".

"If those wolves are howling, then it means they're a pack. We'll need to be careful. With the wolves back it'll be even harder to find evidence, and the woods just got ten times more dangerous. If the situation wasn't so dire I would send out men to protect our sides.". I offer, "But the situation _is_ dire.". She nods. "It is. That's why this is the best we can do. I can only hope that the other parties don't come across any wolves in their travels, and that the killer doesn't decide to stash any more bodies in the woods.". Another howl even closer then before cuts off our conversation, and the rest of the ride is spent in silence.

* * *

><p>When we finally return to Markarth the sun is beginning to rise, and we haven't heard the howling in a while. Thank the gods for that small mercy. Those damned wolves must have found easier prey to go after. When our search party reaches the stables we realize we're the last group to turn up, and from the looks of it we're several hours late. The other search parties have had time to build fires, set up tents, and dig up latrines around their area. Ondolemar rides out to meet us. When he sees the Khajiit he shakes his head and explains, "Nothing. We didn't find a single thing.". My mage companion whistles for the man with the body to come forward.<p>

As he does the woman tells Ondolemar, "Your men must hot have been searching hard enough.". The Altmer recoils when he sees the body, but somehow also manages to look impressed. He points the man up to the keep and commands, "Bring the body to the healer, they know what to do.". The body carrier nods and rides away, his horse _barely_ avoiding a stinking latrine as he goes. Our search party begins to mingle with the others, forming a tremendous group of comrades. However, the Khajiit and I stay a little ways away with Ondolemar. The Altmer looks around, then motions at us and explains, "Follow me.". As he rides away we rush to keep up, desperate to hear what he has to say.

* * *

><p>Ondolemar leads us once again into his room, and motions for us to sit down. He moves some papers around in front of him as he explains, "Not a single one of our troops found anything. Did any of you find any clues?". I shake my head, but the Khajiit nods and begins, "Someone's in the woods.". In an instant I question, "Is that what got you so stirred up?". The woman nods and continues, "There's something with brown eyes out in the woods. Waiting, and they're intelligent enough to speak the common tongue.". Ondolemar looks completely entranced as he motions at the woman and offers, "Continue.". My mage companion takes a moment to compose herself, then launches into her tale.<p>

"I was looking for the torch bearer I'd sent out when I found the boy dead. I could see that his entire front was ripped open. The boy was wearing the finest armor an average man could afford, and his sword was the sharpest I've ever seen a man of his age carry. He was a little short, but stocky enough to handle the challenge of a simple wolf pack or bear attack. My horse spooked during the search and bucked me. He yanked me along the ground for several paces before my foot managed to pop loose. Aealynn here found the beast later, but at that moment I was without a steed. I considered casting a light spell, but decided I didn't want to see what was in the dark.".

"A breath of rancid foulness smacked me right in the face, and that's when I was made aware of something else in my presence. I attempted to crawl away, but it kept pace with me. However, it did it only one step at a time.". Ondolemar cocks his head and asks, "Like how a cat will stalk a rat when it's slowly crawling away from it?". The Khajiit nods and explains, "Exactly like that, so I decided against running. I started backing away slowly, but the person still kept pace with me and refused to be shaken. That's when Aealynn found me.".

I nod in agreement, remembering the moment when I decided that I needed to go help the woman. "I didn't see much of the person, but the torch lit him up enough that I could see his eye. Brown like mud, but it was clear as crystal. Does that make sense? Even if it doesn't, that's what it looked like.". Ondolemar seems to deflate a little. "So, all we have is the person's eye color?". I decide to cut in by offering, "Eye color can be useful. It crosses off those with blue, green, and any other color eyes.". The Altmer nods and agrees, "That's true, but it's still not _that_ useful.". He rubs his temples and mumbles, "At least it's something.". He seems to perk up a little, "At least we know what part of the woods to check.". The Khajiit shakes her head, and I know exactly why.

Sure enough, the woman explains, "The killer wouldn't stay in that area, that's just plain stupid. But he wouldn't leave the hold.". The Altmer nods. "You're right. He's gotten use to these grounds, and he's tasted the blood of our citizens. He's taken it upon himself to make this place his personal hunting grounds, and he certainly isn't going to give them up because we start looking for him.". The mage adds, "He won't leave since there isn't a direct threat to him.". Without thinking I add in, "Especially since you backed away from him and made yourself appear weak.". Ondolemar looks flustered as he snarls, "She did _not_-". The Khajiit cuts him off by saying, "No, she's right.".

Everyone falls silent as the woman continues talking. "Backing away from a wolf won't make it fear you, or encourage it to stop hunting you.". Ondolemar considers, "Can we just make a big show of our strength and get the killer to run away?". The mage shakes her head as she explains, "Impossible. The killer probably won't be scared away by anything we can do. And, even if he _could_ be scared away, why would you want him to be? He's committed multiple horrendous murders. We can't let a man like that walk free, or even let him keep his head for too long. I'm all for mercy, but this man doesn't deserve anything of the like.".

Ondolemar nods and consents, "I'll have his head chopped off the second we catch him. And, that's only if we _catch_ him. If he continues his killing spree, then I'll give my men the 'shoot first ask questions later' command. Even now I'm going to tell my guards to watch out for strangers with brown eyes, and survey them twice as hard. It's not much, but at least it's something.". Everyone mumbles in agreement, but a knock at the door interrupts our important mumbles.

A female Altmer who usually guards Ondolemar sticks her head inside and announces, "The healer examined the body you gave him. The results are odd to say the least, and he refuses to write anything down, or even tell me much of the information. Keeps claiming it's top-secret, and that I'm not to be trusted. Bastard. Anyway, he said you'd all have to come down if you wanted to see and hear the results.". The Khajiit turns to us and asks, "Ready?". We both nod and all three of us get up, heading for the body.


	29. The Corpse

**Dovahkiin POV:**

The body is naked and partly dissected on the healer's table, his decapitated and smashed head a few feet away on a different table. Ondolemar, Aealynn, and I all stand in silence as we wait for the healer, and soon enough the man appears. His robes are covered in blood, a cloth mask is covering his face, and his hands look like he's just shoved them inside a dead cow. Ondolemar clears his throat and questions, "What did you find on the body?". The healer peels off his mask and tosses it to the side, then takes a moment to gulp down a bottle of water before answering, "Ripped to shreds.". I feel a vein in my neck twitch as I go, "Really?".

The healer shoots me a dirty look before continuing, "Clean and quick, no animal could have done it. Whatever slashed him open was as sharp as a blade, and managed to kill him within a few seconds. A single kidney was bitten into, but whatever killed him didn't have the time to take it.". I make a comment, "Our killer seems to favor the kidneys for some reason.". Ondolemar adds, "That could be useful eventually. I'm not sure how, but anything is better than nothing.". The healer coughs, making us aware that he wants all of our attentions. Ondolemar mumbles an apology, and the healer continues. "His organs were slightly moved around due to the killer wanting the kidney, and the simple transportation fact.".

"The armor was the perfect fit, so it would have taken an extreme force to slice through it so easily.". He turns to me, "You were the one that found him, right? Did you see what might have done this to him?". I nod and tell him the story that I told the others. When I'm done he begins tugging at his beard. "I don't know of a creature who's the size of a man, and still has the claws to slice through something like this. At least, not any monster that lives in Skyrim. Besides, you said it spoke. The only monsters and beasts clever enough to speak naturally live in Whiterun and The Rift, The Reach would be a death sentence to them.". Aealynn adds on, "And, they aren't strong enough to slice open armor like that.".

The healer nods and agrees, "That's right. Whatever killed him was strong, fast, and effective. It even had time to rip off his leg. Which brings me to my next point. The leg was oddly enough bitten off, like how a wolf or dog would chew a deer's appendage off.". I offer, "He has a guard dog or tamed wolf to watch his back, and help dispose of his kills.". Aealynn asks, "Could that be all the howling we heard?". I shrug and honestly tell her, "I truly don't know. If it was, then he has an entire pack with him. An entire pack that appears to have the ability to track people.". Ondolemar speaks up. "Should we start up the wolf hunts again?".

I shake my head. "It's just the few wolves or dogs he _might_ have. Punishing an entire population for the deeds of a few is wrong, and it wouldn't even work. The killer would have the wolves or dogs (which we aren't even sure he has) close to him. If you find the wolves, then you've found the killer. And, we haven't found the killer yet. Therefore, it's highly unlikely we would just happen to stumble upon his pack of helpers.". Aealynn tacks on, "He might not even have a wolf or dog. It could have been some random beast who found the body after the killer had stepped away, but before the body was found. A single hungry wolf finding a body and deciding to chow down isn't a crime.".

The healer clears his throat to get us back on track. "I'm afraid the man you're after _might_ just have some wolves or dogs with him. I found faint teeth marks on the back of the man's neck, like something was attempting to either drag him away, eat him, or flip him over. Given the position you found the body in, it's most likely the marks were inflected when something flipping the body over.". I groan. "If he _does_ have wolves, then they're trained. It's hardly an animal's natural instinct to flip a corpse over.". Ondolemar tries to make the situation slightly better by telling me, "At least the wolf idea makes _some_ sort of sense. It would explain some things.".

I nod and the Altmer continues, "It tells us why the organs are missing. If a dog does something good, you give it a reward. If he has multiple dogs, then he has to have multiple rewards. Maybe the dogs favor kidneys, and that's what encourages them the most.". The healer adds, "It would also explain the fur I found in one of the boy's wounds.". We all turn to him and Ondolemar asks, "When were you going to tell us about the fur?". I see a vein in the man's neck begin to stick out as he answers, "Oh I don't know, maybe after you all stopped interrupting me with your talking, and allowed me to get on with my job.". We all mumble sheepish apologies to the man.

He nods in approval before finally explaining the fur to us. "It's not much, but it's something. The man's ribs were shattered, and the jagged edge of one had some grey fur stuck to it. I dried it and examined it by comparing it to other fur samples I had lying around. It's actually rather odd. The texture of it matches a bear, it looks like that of a wolf's pelt, and it was the length of a saber cat's fur. _Technically_ that means it could be classified as all of those animals, but I highly doubt there's some sick lovechild of a wolf, saber cat, and bear running around. Especially taking into account that it can talk. Would any of you like to see the fur?". We all nod.

The man reaches into his robe and pulls out a small tuft of grey fur. We all look at it, but we can't really tell anything. In the end we take the man's word for it. A sudden thought hits me and I ask, "Did anyone find any prints?". Ondolemar goes through his papers and says, "One scout claimed he was in his words 'gigantic wolf prints' around the river's bank. However, the tracks were smashed and muddy, so they looked somewhat like they were in between horse tracks and real wolf tracks. The boy was written off, and his superior wrote that the prints were almost certainly horse tracks.". I run my claws through my mane as I sigh and explain something to Ondolemar.

"That doesn't help us. Where was his sector and what time did he find them?". My Altmer friend looks at the reports once again, "The sector three over from yours and around midday.". I shake my head, "They had to have been horse tracks. No wolf or dog could run fast enough to cross that distance in that few of hours.". Aealynn suggest, "He might have more than one wolf pack. If he could get multiple groups of wolves all hunting at the same time, then nobody would be safe. It would work perfectly for him.". I take a moment to consider her thought, but in the end I tell her, "I find that unlikely. It's hard enough to train one pack of wolves or dogs, two would be too hard.".

Ondolemar also notes, "Training a pack of creatures when you're around is one thing, they'd never do as you've commanded if you left them to their own devises. There's also no guarantee that the creatures wouldn't turn against you the second food became too scarce, or when you have to go to sleep. Having a single wolf as a companion is dangerous, having two or more packs is a death wish.". I finally state, "It had to have been horse tracks. There's no other way. So, what do we know so far about our killer?". Ondolemar has been scribbling things down all the while, and reads off what he has. "Hunter, has brown eyes, is as tall as a human. They're also fast, smart, dangerous, and have the ability to kill within seconds.".

"Whoever is guilty of these crimes knows how to get in and out of the city without being seen, evident by the bodies we've found within the walls. They haven't targeted any elves, they're guilty of rape, and seem to dispose of certain organs in some ways. While they're 'clever' they seem to be lacking in any engineering skills. They couldn't even manage to burn the bodies they attempted to dispose of. Their recent murders seem more violent than their later ones, so they're growing confident. We also have reason to believe that they have one of more dogs or wolves traveling them, but there's no solid evidence. That's all we know.".

I groan and mumble, "That's not enough.". My friend agrees, "If we sent out a warning or wanted poster now, then all it would do would cause mass panic. Dogs would be killed, those with brown eyes would be shunned, and nobody would be safe.". I take a moment to think before telling the Altmer, "I'm in charge, right?". When he nods I ask another question. "You trust me, right? You'll do whatever I command in regards to the murder, and trust I have the best intentions at heart and mind?". When he nods again I command, "Don't make the warning signs too terrifying or specific, but put some up.".

"Warn people not to let strange people into their homes at night, make sure children know that basics of not doing anything that involves strangers, have pet owners bring their animals in at night, continue the harder guard program you suggested a while ago, and put the outsider idea into effect. Make sure that those who live on farms and such are brought into the city, and make sure to warn the Forsworn or any bandits that live within the hold. It's a hard fact to accept, but they're citizens of The Reach. Not _good_ citizens, but citizens all the same. Can you do that? Can you still trust me?". Ondolemar nods and assures me, "The preparations will be done before the end of the week. Everyone shall be warned.".

All four of us turn our heads when we hear sudden rushed footsteps coming towards us. Ondolemar's female guard reappears, a panicked look on her face. "Someone is down in the Dwemer ruins, and they're making the biggest racket we've ever heard. A guard went down there to check the situation out, but he hasn't reappeared. A few of my companions and I went down there to find him. We only got in there a few feet before a wall of spears made of bones forced us to stop. There was blood everywhere, and a note was left on the wall.".

She turns to face me. "It asked for you specifically by name.". Ondolemar scoffs, "It's obviously a trap.". Aealynn adds, "The murderer is going to try to kill you since he couldn't in the woods. Idiotic bastard.". I nod and ask, "Anyone else want to come?". Ondolemar shakes his head, but Aealynn nods. "In that case, come on. Shouldn't keep him waiting.". We both begin walking, but to what I don't know.


	30. Morven

The dwemer laboratory groans and creaks around us, an occasional burst of steam from somewhere alerting us that the lab is still _very_ much in order. And, from what I've been told it's full of traps, so this should be _fun_. We've only just entered the place when I see the wall of spears the guard warned me about, and the bloody note. It reads, '_Nice try, but I won't be scared off_.' I frown at my name. He spelled it all wrong. However, after my horribly off name, he continues, '_come to the deepest part of the laboratory, and a special surprise shall be waiting for you. No more games or sneaking around in the dead or night. This ends_.'.

I nod to myself and resolve to finish this. He's hurting citizens of Markarth, and it's my job to stop him at any cost. I tell Aealynn, "This is going to be dangerous. You can leave if you want.". The Breton shakes her head and jokingly tells me, "I'm kind of curious to see what this psychopath looks like.". I can tell it's just an excuse not to leave, but I let her hide behind her thinly veiled answers and agree, "Very well, then prepare yourself.". When she has her weapon drawn I turn to the spears, and see the faintest trace of a blue energy pulsing around them. I tell my companion, "Stand back a little, I'm going to need to blow this up. I doubt you want any flying shards of bone in your skin.".

When the Breton's a safe distance away I put up a shield and cast a spell that'll blow the wall of spears away. With a resounding _bang_ the entire structure burst apart, but that's not the end of it. Runes were planted behind the spears, and they explode and attempt to do their job of killing anything near them. But I'm too well protected, and Aealynn is too far away. The runes are weak, so at least the killer isn't a master of magic. I don't know _what_ I would do if the murderer ended up skilled in magic. I _despise_ fighting fellow mages. When the wall and runes are done I brush aside a safe path, walk through, and tell Aealynn, "It's safe. You can come on through.".

The woman nods and carefully walks the same path I just did, obviously still cautious of the area I just walked over. Good, she could use a little caution. Caution is a good thing in these situations. We keep going, and we find ourselves in what appears to be a trophy room. All sorts of dwemer items are in the place, protected by cases and locks. I look around and mumble, "It's quite. I hate the quite.". My Breton companion nods. "The quite is the worst thing, almost as bad as waiting.". I spot a bit of blood and motion for Aealynn to follow me. We find the trail leading down a hallway. The Breton beside me scoffs. "An obvious trap.".

I agree, "An obvious trap, but we might have to swallow the bait if it ends up being the only way to get to whoever is down there.". I pull back from the doorway and begin examining the entire area of the room, and eventually Aealynn starts pitching in. "You find anything?". I ask her as I go about my unsuccessful search of the room. "Nope. You?". I shake my head and respond, "Nothing. I think we'll have to swallow the bait.". My companion agrees, "We'll have to swallow the bait.". We both go back over to the doorway. Before we go in I tell my companion, "Hold still, I'm going to cast some wards on both of us. I want both of us to be safe. Try to be sneaky, I don't want that bastard to know what's coming.".

She questions, "What if I can't be sneaky?". I assure her, "It's fine, but I _don't_ want you to set off any traps.". She sighs, "Because you don't want to give away our position?". I shake my head. "Because your dead body is the last thing I want to see, and there's also the chance it could end up just hurting you. That's when we're really screwed. Being hurt is one thing, but we can't be hurt _here_. If one of us gets severally injured, there's the chance both of us could end up being killed.". The woman seems taken by surprise at my answer, but nods and promises me, "I'll try to be careful. Now let's go find him.".

We both carefully walk down the corridor, leaving the sounds and sights of the lab behind us. As we go it gets darker. And darker. And darker. Eventually I freeze up and Aealynn tells me, "Do a spell to lighten this place up. I'm getting sick of this.". I don't speak, I don't even move. Aealynn asks, "What's-". That's when she sees what I'm looking at. A single brown orb in the middle of the blackness. I swallow and whisper, "It's him.". The eye moves up and down, then slowly rises. At first I think the person is climbing some steps, then I realize they're just standing at their full height. I hear Aealynn nervously ask, "I thought you said it was just the height of a man?".

The eye moves side to side, then a deep and gargled voice commands, "Leave.". I shake my head and the man growls, "Fine.". The brown eye snaps away, and I hear the sound of footsteps rushing away in the opposite direction. I regain my senses and cast a mage light spell, filling the hallway with wonderful light that allows us to see. Every inch of the place is soaked in blood, and footprints lead away from us. I tell Aealynn, "We should have brought some guards down here with us.". She nods and I shrug. "No use crying over spilled milk. Well, let's get to it.". She nods and we both begin slowly walking forward, careful not to slip in the blood.

We come to find ourselves in a gigantic grey room made entirely out of stone, with a single person in it. I squint and ask, "Morven?". The man looks up at me and begins mumbling something about apple pie. I put my hands at my side and tell Aealynn, "This doesn't add up.". The woman shrugs and jogs over to him. She looks into his eyes and says, "One brown eye like the one we saw back there. He fits the profile.". I shake my head. "I fought this man once when I was taking down The Forsworn Conspiracy. He _couldn't_ have done this, he's too much of a milk drinker. Besides, look at him.". The man is curled up on himself, still mumbling about pies.

"He's gone mad since the last time I saw him! He's not nearly clever enough to do all of this, or strong enough to kill anyone. He _couldn't_ have done this. It just doesn't make sense...". I hear footsteps behind me and flip around, but it's too late. Someone barrels into me. I instantly recognize the warmth and scream, "Get your fat ass off of me!". Ondolemar apologizes and gets up, but gives me a slight kick and taunts, "You wish your ass was _half_ as good looking as mine.". That's when he sees Morven. He begins screaming, "GUARDS! GUARDS!". Within seconds the guards of Markarth are here and rushing over to Morven. Without a single word they begin beating him.

I turn to my friend and explain, "I don't think he's our guy.". The Altmer rolls his eyes. "He's our guy.". I sigh. "No, he's not.". The Altmer reaches out and hugs me. I tense as he strokes my mane and tells me, "Sweet, sweet Khajiit. So simple minded and pure. He's our guy.". I groan. "No, he's not. Trust me on this, he couldn't have done it.". Ondolemar shakes his head and insist, "He did it, and we're killing him. Now we don't have to go through with all that stuff you planned, and you can go back to the college faster.". I squint at him. "You sure seem eager to get rid of me.". He looks sheepish as he explains, "I _might_ not have told the Jarl about your coming and helping me.".

"Now he wants answers that I can't give, and the sooner this is over is the better for me. Trust me, he's our guy.". I look over at Morven and question, "Do you truly believe he's our guy, or are you just doing all of this so you can hang someone and pray the real killer goes away?". He shrugs and mumbles, "A little of both.". I roll my eyes and insist, "Please, let's do this right. And, stop hugging me!". He finally releases me and I take a few awkward steps back, brushing myself off as he promises, "He's our guy. I believe it in every fiber of my heart and every part of my very being. Please, trust me.". When I reluctantly nod he smiles and says, "Good, now let's watch this bastard hang!".

* * *

><p>Storm clouds are gathering in the west when everyone is gathered, Morven standing on the makeshift hanging device that will end his life. I'm standing between Ondolemar and Aealynn, and the entire population of Markarth is behind me. I lean over and whisper to Ondolemar, "I'm still not so sure about this.". He brushes me off and mumbles, "Well, I am, and I'm the one who set all of this up. Now trust me for once if your life.". Ondolemar, Aealynn, and I all begin walking up the platform, a beaten and subdued Morven whimpering as we mount the steps. Once we're on the stage my Altmer friend clears his throat and launches into his speech, slowly rallying Markarth as he does.<p>

"Comrades, before you stands a traitor to the crown and to the city. He has taken innocent lives, raped maidens until they died, and attempted to take the life of our hero.". He suddenly takes my hand and yanks it up, letting the city know who their 'hero' is. "He has also participated in cannibalism, and the illegal training of feral and rabid wolves. We can not stand by idly and allow such crimes to go unanswered. Death is the penalty, but my friend here is too kind to pull the lever.". He walks over to the switch. "So, comrades, what shall it be? Say the word, and he shall hang.". The crowd explodes in a roar, and Ondolemar yanks the lever. I don't bother telling anyone Ondolemar is mostly making up stuff as he goes.

* * *

><p>I wash my face in the basin beside the bed, still upset from today's execution. I'm not certain Morven was guilty, but I'm not sure if he was innocent either. I wanted to have a trial to decide his fate, but Ondolemar insisted execution. We argued for hours, but eventually he won. Oh well, maybe it was Morven after all. It seems unlikely, but a woman can dream. After Morven hung everyone had a huge celebration, and it's still going on. However, my room is <em>just<em> far enough away to prevent me from hearing it. Now I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself or Aealynn. Right now all I want to do is sleep. I blow out my candles, climb into bed, and close my eyes. I'm almost asleep when I hear a _huu_ of someone breathing. I sigh and whisper, "Morven was innocent.". Another _huu_, then, "Yes.". Well, fuck.


	31. The Beast's Lair

I take a deep swallow and feel the same rancid breath on my face. "There's not a chance you'll leave, is there?". The brown eye moves back and forth. I take a deep breath and consider my option. The party is going on, nobody would hear me scream. Even if they did, the murderer would have killed me before they could reach me. Aealynn's room is right next to mine and I think she's in there, but that _still_ wouldn't do me much good. She'd come running, but I'd be dead by the time she'd open the door. And, the murderer would most likely kill Aealynn just for fun. I mockingly question, "Shall I write the obituary beforehand, or do you have the time?".

A deep and thunderous laugh fills the room, and for some reason it terrifies me. It would have been so much better if the person had simply said 'no'. The brown eye briefly disappears as they laugh and I consider attacking. Then, the eye reappears and I've lost my chance. I decide stalling is my best chance for survival. "Why did you let Morven hang? He took credit for your crimes.". The brown eye comes a little closer. "Secrecy is my priority.". He wants to kill without being seen, and letting Morven take the fall took all eyes off him. "How did you do that?". The brown eye goes slanted, and I assume the person is cocking their head. "How did you disappear in the corridor?".

Another thunderous laugh. "You'll find out.". I do something that I know is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. I cast a mage light spell. I want to scream. I want to scream so badly, but the noise dies somewhere between my throat and my lips. I feel my eyes widen to an obscene amount, and I know I must look like the stupidest fish in the entire universe. I just can't help it. A tremendous monster is looming before me, its front paws on the edge of my bed. Grey fur is slicked down because of rainwater, showing off the massive muscles the werewolf has. The beast is crouching down, but now it stands to its full height. Its head touches the top of my roof and it hunches over.

The beast has to be ten feet tall at the very least, and the monster's shoulders are the width on an oxen's chest. The very size of the creature is mind-boggling. It raises a hand to reach for me, and the appendage is big enough to cover my entire face. I recoil a little and the monster puts its hand down to laugh. I see its mouth and feel myself growing faint. It's mouth is big enough to completely engulf my middle, and it's full of teeth the size of daggers. Only much, much sharper. I look down at the claws and begin to feel sick. Bloodstained talons the length of my hand are shredding my covers, and that's without the werewolf even trying.

The killer stops laughing and I whisper, "How did you get in here?". A tremendous smile as it answers, "The door.". Oh wonderful, my captor's going to be _that_ person. I look around the room for anything that could be used as a makeshift weapon. The werewolf suddenly begins doing a weird push-up like motion, then unsteadily jumps onto my bed. The stone bed _groans_ underneath the monster's weight, but the killer doesn't seem to care in the slightest. Now the werewolf is awkwardly hunched over to fit into the small space between my bed and the ceiling, so he's pushed even closer to me. I can't help eyeing the monster. Arm muscles that look like cannonballs, a chest worthy of a working horse, and abs that remind me of steaks.

Well, steaks from cows that were fed weaker cows. That's when I notice something else. A small tuft of fur hides the werewolf's genitals, but I have a safe guess what gender it is. "You're a woman.". The werewolf looks down at itself, looks back up at me, and goes, "Really?". A sudden knock at the door interrupts us. I hear Aealynn ask, "Is everything alright in there? There's an odd light coming from underneath your door, so I thought I'd check on you.". The werewolf looks over at me and raises her tremendous hand, showing off the daggers that she calls claws.

"I just had to go get a drink of water and didn't know where-". I pretend to crawl away from the werewolf, but my hand 'slips' and goes _thump_. "to go. Trust me, I'm fine.". I let out a small chuckle. "Probably my own fault for wolf-". I pretend to get nervous and swallow, creating a small pause in conversation. "ing down my dinner. I'll be fine. But my room just warmed up, so please don't come inside-". I fake becoming frightened, and the werewolf nudges me to continue speaking. "because all the warm air will escape.". Aealynn waits, then asks, "Are you sure you're fine? You're talking kind of weird.". Damn it, she isn't looking for a message or hidden meaning.

Ondolemar probably would have gotten it, but there's no way Aealynn will pick up on my signals. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just cold. Leave me.". I hear her footsteps go away, and the faint sound of her door closing. The beast before me smiles and congratulates, "Nice message.". I deflate a little and shake my head. "You got that, huh?". She nods and I sigh, "At least one of you did.". The monster chuckles and I finally take the time to look at her eye. One white and milky one and the other brown and knowing. I sigh and tell her, "Come on let's get this over with. I don't have all day to wait.". The light goes out, and the brown orb bobs up and down. That's when I feel the fist connect with my face.

* * *

><p>I wake up and feel myself swinging back and forth, occasionally bumping against a hairy chest. I mumble as I come to, and feel a liquid running down my face. I reach up and touch my bloody nose, then recoil and stop touching my wound. Darkness surrounds me and I cast another mage light spell. A growl from above me tells me the spell isn't appreciated, but at least I'm not killed. The swinging continues and I try to decide where I am. From what I can tell it's just a grey corridor. That doesn't help me in the slightest. Then, my light shines on a familiar sight. A wall of bone spears. The werewolf briefly spits me out, <em>thumps<em> a tremendous back paw on my stomach, and goes to work.

She reaches up and grabs a random spear, twisting it in an odd manner. The entire wall falls forward, and the wolf uses her long claws to grab a hold of it without harming herself. I'm kicked backwards as the werewolf slowly backs up, awkwardly handling the spear wall. Eventually her and I are clear of the trap, and she places it down on the floor. I'm roughly picked up and thrown across the wall of spears that's currently lying on the ground. When I land I groan, and I hear the werewolf land a few feet away from me. I hear the werewolf pick the wall up and put it back in its place, then I'm yanked up and the swinging resumes.

I see the familiar room of dwemer trophies, and realize we're taking the same path Aealynn and I took to get to Morven. However, this time I have a light to show me where I am. The bloody corridor surrounds us again, and I expect some twist. Some turn I didn't see, or some hidden entrance that the werewolf cleverly hid from us. But no such deception comes, and I find myself in the room where we found Morven. I'm spit out again, and this time my tail is stepped on. I curse and begin fighting to get away, but I notice something. That mage light took up all my magicka, and for some reason it's not regenerating. I begin attempting to cast random spells and the werewolf lets out a small chuckle before mumbling, "Poison.".

I scream and begin fighting with all my might, but my claws are nothing compared to a sharp kick to the head by the werewolf. As I sit there in my daze the wolf picks me up in one hand, places me to the side, and does something extremely odd. She gets down on all fours, turns so her ass is facing the wall, and kicks it like a mule. The wall falls away, revealing a dark corridor. I've regained a little bit of my senses and try to stand, but the werewolf's jaws close around the back of my robes. I'm carried through the secret entrance, put down as the werewolf puts back the wall, picked up, and forced to once again endure the horrid swinging.

As we go I let my claws come out and wait for the perfect moment. It presents itself when my spell wears off and we're plunged into blackness. I thrust my hand backwards in the hopes of stabbing the wolf. My claws barely brush against her skin, and the tremendous beast seems to sigh. She stops and sits down in the middle of the hall. I'm not sure what I expect, but it isn't the violent shaking that follows. It's like I'm a pup who just misbehaved and it's her duty to reprimand me. All I can do is scream and flail as the shaking continues, boggling my brain and mixing my thoughts into one giant goo. When she stops the wolf calmly stands and resumes walking, as if nothing in the entire world could bother her.

I feel the poison begin reaching its crescendo of effectiveness, and my stomach starts to coil in on itself (although the shaking may have helped the poison out with making me sick). I turn my head to the side and splatter the werewolf behind me with my sick. A low growl reaches my ear. The next shaking lasts longer and is by far harder, but eventually the beast stops. I feel sick, but manage to hold it in this time. The beast continues moving. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right. I pick up the mantra in my mind, closing my eyes and focusing on anything but the damned swaying motion.

The beast that's carrying me suddenly picks up speed, and I swear I feel her jump. At least, we seem to sail through the air for a little bit. I feel the _thud_ of landing, and realize the werewolf didn't stop putting up traps after the fake wall. A sharp left turn smacks me against the wall, and the woman carrying me lets out a small chuckle. Another jump followed by a sharp left turn, then a downward slope, and finally a curving left turn. Is this place a maze? How many turns are there? The werewolf picks up speed again and does a few more jumps and turns.

I deeply hope the trip isn't going to last much longer, I can already feel my stomach turning. Another sharp jump. I groan and close my eyes. I have absolutely no idea where we are. And, that means it's going to be nearly impossible for anyone else to find me. Wonderful. Finally, the wolf stops and spits me out. I hear the groaning and cracking of a werewolf transforming back to it's mortal form. "Welcome to my home.".

* * *

><p><strong>Note: One of my other stories (Maid in Whiterun) is at an end, so now I need to get a few things straight. As of right now my plan is to finish up 'Life Divided' (A New Order), then focus purely on 'A Life Across the Ages'. When that's done I'll probably start one (count 'em, ONE) story is TES Universe. I don't have a plan after that, but trust me. It'll work out.<strong>


	32. Paintings

**Aealynn POV:**

I wake up to find Ondolemar roughly shaking me, practically screaming my name. I jolt up and mumble, "What? What?". The Altmer looks absolutely mortified as he explains, "The murderer has taken someone else, and we can't find her.". I rub my eyes as I look around for the Khajiit. She's usually here for these kinds of things, and she _is_ in charge of the case. When I don't see the woman anywhere I look at the man and question, "Who did the killer take?". I feel a ball of ice form in my guts as he gives me a look and whispers, "We both know.". I swallow and try to find some reason in this. "It _can't_ be her. She must be out of the city or something. Maybe she's doing some errand she forgot to do, or meeting up with some friend.".

"The woman has friends _everywhere_. She must have gone out and just assumed she would be back before everyone awoke. I'll bet you ten septims she's on her way back right now, and she'll give us some excuse about being held up or something. Maybe she just got drunk and she's sleeping it off. It _can't_-". Ondolemar has been looking at me in a mix of pity and understanding, but now he cuts in. "We found blood on her pillows, nobody's seen her in hours, and the spears that guarded Morven's lair are back up.". I'm reminded of the man that was executed. "So, we sentenced an innocent man to death?".

Ondolemar groans and begs, "Don't remind me. The citizens were in a frenzy at his execution, and now that they've realized he was innocent they're turning all of that energy onto us. The Khajiit was well known around the city, and everyone is demanding her body be recovered.". I slide out of bed and begin searching for my clothes. "Body? So we're for sure she's deceased?". The elf shrugs and claims, "Nobody else has survived in the murderer's clutches. I'd like to say I know the Khajiit is tough enough to survive whatever tortures the murderer has planned, but that would be lying. The woman has a strong mind, but the sicko who's killing people is almost professional in the manner in which he kills his victims.".

"If she isn't dead yet, then I'd bet she's at _least_ on her way out.". I finish dressing and tell him, "Then we'd better find her. Fast.". Ondolemar puffs himself up and snarls, "Who made _you_ the leader? I know this city, the keep, and the Khajiit better than you do!". I begin walking to the door and try to appease him. "Fine, it's a partnership.". My plan works and the man seems to accept the current status of who's in charge, and follows me to the Khajiit's room. A few guards are stationed outside, but allow me and Ondolemar by. Once we're inside we securely lock the door behind. We _definitely_ don't want anyone else seeing the crime scene.

Ondolemar and I carefully walk over to the bed and examine it. The end of the bed is shredded, there's grey fur everywhere, and some scratches on the floor. On the _stone_ floor. A splash of blood on the pillow is the only sign of the Khajiit. I begin looking for a trail, but it's useless. I sigh and tell the Altmer, "I guess we'd better go check out the spikes, we aren't finding any clues here.". The man nods and begins leading me to the same place the Khajiit and I went to find Morven. Another spear wall is blocking us, but there's a major difference this time. The mage isn't here to remove the traps, and I don't know how. Ondolemar motions for me to stand back and says, "I'll take care of this.".

I nod and back away. The man gathers all of his magic and prepares to throw it. At the last second I remember that the other side is probably littered with magic runes like the last time, and if he blows it away the entire thing will blow up. I open my mouth to scream a warning to stop him, but it's too late. All I can do is charge backwards with my arms covering my face as the entire room seems to explode. Ondolemar isn't as lucky, but he still manages to drop and cover himself with his hands. I feel shards of bone tearing at my skin, but none of them manage to lodge themselves in my muscles. I suppose I should thank the gods for _that_ small miracle.

When the blasts stop I fall to the ground and remain that way for a few moments, just to make sure I don't end up getting killed by a random last blow sending another shard of bone flying. When I'm assured it's safe I stand up, shake myself off, and walk over to Ondolemar. The man is in worse condition than me, and it takes him a few minutes to get all of the shards out of his skin. When he's finally gone he casts a few healing spells, and manages to push himself to his feet. Once he's standing I promise him, "I'll go get some help if you need.". He shakes his head. "The Khajiit needs us, and she's been through worse for me.". I nod and begin leading him into the next area.

I find the corridor that's heavily stained with blood and begin going down it. As we do I question Ondolemar, "Can you cast a spell that'll shine some light on this? It'll get dark in a few feet, and I want to see anything I might have missed the first time. Check for clues and all that.". The Altmer nods and casts a mage light spell, the entire hallway drinking in the light. More blood. At first I don't think there's anything else to see, but something odd catches my eyes. A pattern in the blood. I look over and see a crudely drawn dog in the red liquid. I whistle to Ondolemar and tell him, "Clue.". He comes over and tells me, "Even more clues.". I follow his line of sight.

More drawings. The dog is followed by a bloody woods, deer and bears roaming around the red landscape. The next few pictures are different people. As we go Ondolemar fills me in, "These are all the people that were murdered.". My foot _clicks_ against something and I look downward. Smashed white snowberries in a pot, a jam made of blueberries in a jar, another pot of crushed blackberries, and a plate of smashed yellow raspberries. All the primary colors, black, and white. The crude paints begin to add new life to the paintings, and it seems whoever drew them has improved their artistic skills the farther we go down the wall. After the victims I notice something disturbing.

A Khajiit begins taking over a majority of the pictures. Her fur color is a little off and she's horribly lacking in detail, but it's clear to me who it is. The drawings go farther back than I would have thought possible. It shows us arriving on the carriage, talking to Ondolemar- wait? Talking with Ondolemar?! I whisper to the man, "He's someone we know.". The elf was walking slightly ahead of me, but comes back and scoffs. "It couldn't have been! We would have known!". I shake my head and show him the painting. Ondolemar punches the stone, curses at his hurt hand, and snarls, "Who in oblivion is that close to us?".

I shrug and keep looking at the paintings. The more I go the more my mage friend dominates the wall. At one point it even appears she has a large portion dedicated purely to her. The pictures I see are extremely terrifying. The first is Khajiit standing beside Ondolemar and me, all three of us looking at the Morven's lifeless body. The next is of the mage bathing in the bathes of Markarth (she complained about feeling 'dirty' after the execution and wanted to clean off), and the detail in this picture is enough to anger and frighten me. It even compels Ondolemar to lean down and pick up the jar of black paint. He moves to splash the 'art' with the paint and destroy it, but I stop him.

"If we don't find who did this, then destroying what they made would anger them. Angering the killer while he has the Khajiit isn't the smartest move.". He's still worked up, but my words slowly calm him down and he abandons the jar. We keep going down the wall. Another portrait of the Khajiit, Ondolemar, and me. We've all sitting at the feast we had_ last night_. Even the attention and detail put into our meals is right! More pictures of the Khajiit, each one growing more detailed. The patterns in her fur, the way her robe is lopsided when she sits a certain way, the length of her claws in proportion to the rest of her hand, the way her fur swoops at the base of her neck. It's all there.

I see Ondolemar is still stopped at the bath scene. He looks extremely uncomfortable and begs, "Can't I destroy it? It just feels _wrong_ to leave it like this. Please? Look at the detail this sick fucker put into this! He must have been watching her the entire time!". I roll my eyes and go over to him. I gently take his arm and tell him, "It'll be fine. I'm certain the killer just wanted to capture as many details as he could. Besides, there are other scenes as detailed as that one.". He relents to my touch and allows me to lead him away, but he still grumbles, "It doesn't feel right.". I nod in agreement and keep walking, but stop at one of the last painting. A gleaming Khajiit is peacefully lying in her stone bed, her eyes slightly closed as she lies on her back.

However, her tense posture tells me she's still awake. I pat Ondolemar and whisper, "Look.". He stares at the painting and slowly reaches out. I'm not sure what he plans on doing, but I don't stop him. Ondolemar clutches the Kahjiit's face, then violently yanks downwards. The paint smears and we both make gasps of surprise. It _was_ gleaming, but it's clear neither of us expected it to be this fresh. I begin yanking on the Altmer as I lead him on to the next painting. The last one before the wall becomes blank. We both freeze and gag at the next scene of the Khajiit.

The mage is lying down on a table, a petrified look glued on her face. Thick leather straps tie her arms, legs, middle, and head down to the stone. A table full of dwemer instruments is beside her, each one sharper and crueler than the last. A tremendous basin of blood is beside her. I squint at the basin, and realize the blood used to paint it isn't normal human blood. It's darker, thicker, and reflects the light in an odd way. The killer added some more detail to the 'art', and something is casting its shadow onto the terrified Khajiit. I examine the shadow and whisper, "He's going to feed her to a wolf.". Ondolemar looks at the shadow I've been studying.

Two pointed ears and broad shoulders are our only clues, but at least it's made us aware of the danger. Ondolemar starts charging ahead, but I still examine the picture. There has to be another clue somewhere in here. There _has_ to be. Finally, I see it. Beside the table is a small pile of items. A collar with a chain, a freshly cleaned bone, some bloody meat, a whip, and a muzzle that would fit a gigantic head. It dawns on me what's going to happen. Those ears aren't from a regular wolf, the blood in the basin isn't human, and the Khajiit isn't in any danger of dying. She's in danger of something much _much_ worse. I scream and rush to catch up with Ondolemar.


	33. An Ancient Memory

The elf is standing in the lair where the Khajiit and I caught Morven, but he's completely at a loss of what to do. I almost barrel into him, and the only reason I don't is because I yank to the right at the last moment. I slide a little on the ground, pop up, and scream, "ONDOLEMAR!". He flips to me and asks, "What?!". I point back at the paintings as I begin panting in a small panic. "She's going to be a werewolf!". The Altmer looks completely confused and demands, "What? Explain.". I swallow and begin, "The painting! The killer isn't going to feed her to a wolf, the killer is a werewolf! That basin of blood beside the Khajiit is werewolf blood, and the mage is going to be forced into changing. The murderer already has everything prepared.I have no idea why she's all tied down, but it can't be good. Please, we need to hurry this up!".

The man looks absolutely stunned and rushes out of the room. I scream in anger, but I'm forced to wait for him. When he returns his face is dire and he nods. "You're right. This entire situation just got a thousand times worse. Did the Khajiit say anything to you?". I nod and repeat her conversation, "She said, 'I just had to go get a drink of water and didn't know where-' . She made a weird thumping noise before saying 'to go. Trust me, I'm fine.'. Then, she laughed and told me, 'Probably my own fault for wolf-'. She paused before finishing, 'ing down my dinner. I'll be fine. But my room just warmed up, so please don't come inside-'. She paused again and finished, 'because all the warm air will escape.'. That mean anything?".

Ondolemar looks absolutely terrified as he whispers, "Where. Wolf. Inside. The killer was inside her bedroom and she tried to warn you.". He shakes his head and practically yelps, "We need to get a move on!". I swallow and begin looking around the room. "Where in oblivion do we even begin?! There's nowhere to go!". Ondolemar looks around the room and screams in frustration, then does something I never expected. He throws a fireball at the wall. I screech in panic and rush back to the hallway, taking shelter (kneeling down on the ground and covering my head) by the painting of the naked Khajiit bathing.

After a few moments his temper tantrum stops and he whispers, "Clue.". I rush back into the room and freeze. A panel of the wall is slightly ajar, revealing the blackness beyond it. We both slowly walk over, grab the edges of the wall, and yank it away from where it was resting. Ondolemar's mage light spell spills into the darkness, and more blood along the walls greet us. We keep going, and this time we don't bother looking at the pictures. They're mostly just scribbles I'm assuming the killer used to hone his skills. I see more pictures of the naked Khajiit than I would like to, each detail practiced what seems like a thousand times before the killer seems pleased with the results. Ondolemar seems to fidget more and become angrier as we go, but he manages to hold himself back.

When we reach a fork in the road we stop and turn to one another. I swallow and explain, "We shouldn't split up. It'll make us easier targets, and we could end up getting lost.". He agrees, "We'll need to stay together.". His voice has slowly become quieter, and it's not long before we're only whispering to one another. "Should we call out to try to find the Khajiit?". He shakes his head and deters, "She might answer, but the killer would hear anything she heard. The murderer would come find us and turn us into paints. Only call out if you think we're close.". I sigh and give up, "We'll just have to give in and stay together without calling out to her. It'll take a while, but it's better than nothing. Which way?". He points left and I nod, following the man into the darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>Dovahkiin POV:<strong>

The straps are beginning to dig into my flesh, but I can't really do anything about that. The woman keeps slinking around in the darkness, still refusing to let me see her. Her voice sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't quite place it. All I can do is occasionally jerk or twitch, and whimper in a vain attempt to get free. That poison is still pumping through my veins, so it'll be a while before I'm able to cast even the simplest of spells. And, I hear the woman begin chopping and mixing things. Is she already going to give me another potion for my magic? Why would she give me one so soon? When the woman returns I still can't see her face, but as her arm reaches from the darkness I gather a few small clues. Her arm is hairless and doesn't have scales, so that eliminates the possibility of her being a Khajiit or Argonian.

Her skin is a unique and dusty color, and it reminds me of someone. However, I can't place who it is. I sigh and feel her hand securely grab my jaw, forcing it open. The lip of a bottle is shoved in my mouth and I splutter and struggle, but the leather straps tying me down are too much. I'm forced to drink or drown, and it's clear which option I choose. When I've swallowed it my head begins to feel light, and I'm vaguely aware I can't feel anything below my waist. As the potion wears on the numbness crawls up my body, straddling my stomach, crushing my chest, and eventually overcoming me. Now my entire world of sensation boils down to one feeling. Nothing.

I hear a humming noise overcome my ears, and my vision begins to blur. I keep thinking I'm going to pass out, but I don't. I keep seeing the woman come in and out of my vision, but I can never _quite_ see her clearly. I blink a few times and finally my vision snaps back to focus. I catch the corner of her face. Brown war paint. That's all I see before she disappears again. However, I see some supplies she drags from somewhere and places on the floor beside me. A collar with a chain, a freshly cleaned bone, some bloody meat, a whip, and a muzzle that would fit a gigantic head. I nervously swallow and I hear a chuckle from my captor (and most likely future killer). "Don't worry, it'll all make sense soon.".

A tremendous and curved dwemer knife appears out of the hidden cloak of shadows, the tip coming to rest on my robes. Right below my breasts and in the middle of my body. If she slices down, then she'll have hit _right_ above my ribcage. I feel vomit flood my mouth at the thought of her stabbing the instrument into me, then forcing it in between the tips of my ribs until she's cut down to my pelvis. The woman sees this and briefly puts the knife down. Then, she adjusts my head in the leather strap. My skull is resting so I'm facing sideways. Now if I throw up I won't choke on it and speed up my death. "Don't worry, you aren't going to die yet. I just want to dig around you a little. See what makes you tick. Make sure you'll be able to survive what I'm going to put you through.".

She picks back up the knife and returns it to its place. "You should count yourself blessed. None of the others had the joy of potions to kill their pain. Some of them even ended up dead before I could finish examining them.". I hear the _rip_ of fabric and see the knife slide out of my range of vision. The (thankfully) clean knife comes up to rest on my cheek, the tip lightly tapping against my flesh as the killer continues, "I'm certain you'll last longer. None of the others were suitable for my purpose anyway, but I can tell that won't be the case with you. You'll be the absolutely perfect candidate.". My entire face feels like a cold, fat, and unfeeling piece of ham, but I manage to slur, "Why cut me open?". A laugh reaches my ears before the murderer calms herself and answers me.

"Petty revenge, and just to make sure. I don't want some person with a horrible disease joining my new order. You're strong now, but it would all be worthless if you have a rotten kidney or swollen appendix. Just a precaution.". She pulls her knife away from my face and uses a brief flame spell on it. "So you won't bleed all over the place and end up croaking before all the fun.". Her knife returns to where it was, and I hear the disgusting _rip_ of skin being forced apart. I swallow and go back to attempting to fight, but the murderer is too skilled with the leather straps. There's no way I can possibly escape. I hear more ripping, and see my own skin being pulled away from my body.

I let out a groan and close my eyes, but I still can't feel anything. The killer begins to hum and speak. "Everything looks fine. Strong ribs, large enough stomach, decent looking digestive tract-". She pauses. "Damn, are you on steroids or something? Fucking huge ass heart. Like a damned horse. Well, that's over-exaggerating, but you get the point.". I see reach for another tool. "That heart will come in handy later, you won't end up dying during the first change.". I realize what she's planning on doing and start fighting again. My efforts are as futile as last time. She picks up a dwemer spoon that looks more like a scraper and explains, "I need to check some fat and muscles. After that I'll do some measurements. Then, we'll be ready to start.".

I hear the clicking of the tool and the killer tells me. "Great, now all I have to do is make sure your skull and torso are large enough to hold everything.". She pulls a length of rope from somewhere and starts yanking it this way and that along my body, occasionally humming or sighing. "It could be better, but I've seen worse. You'll survive, you might just not _enjoy_ the transformation. Don't worry, you'll get use to it eventually. You might even welcome it one day.". She tosses the rope off to the side and mumbles, "I'd better get started. Almost night out.". I hear the cracking and snarling of a werewolf transforming, and eventually the monster is once again standing beside me.

The monster holds on its hand and uses its other claw to rip open a vein, the red liquid spewing out and spraying everything around her. The wolf steps into the light and I see a gigantic smile on its face. It begins to bring its open wound to my lips, but a noise stops us. The sound of two pairs of running feet, and someone yelling my name. The werewolf snarls a curse and begins to transform back. Somehow that makes me even more concerned. This beast has almost perfect control over their form, and that makes them a thousand times more dangerous. When the woman is back to her normal form she steps forward and begins undoing my straps, and that's when I _finally_ get to see the woman who's putting me through all of this.

The Breton looks tired and worn, but she's still found the time to keep her Mohawk haircut in perfect condition. Her brown warpaint is smeared a little, but it still reminds me of the first time I ever saw her. Beneath the boiling stones of Markarth, standing beside her Forsworn fellows. "Kaie.". The woman looks up at me and smiles. "So good to see you know me. I'd almost feared you wouldn't remember me.". I look into the gaping hole where her left eye was and ask, "How could I forget?". As the woman picks me up (after hastily burning my skin back together) she shoves a potion down my throat, and I a strange calmness come over me. I lean my head back and smile, allowing memories of Kaie to overcome me.


End file.
